We went to the mortuary that afternoon. The dead man was still in the pierrot's dress--I had arranged this should be so, wishing to afford the professor every facility in his investigation. He was more interested in the dress than in the man, examining it very carefully with his lens. The stockings and shoes came in for close inspection, also the comical pierrot's hat, which he fitted to the dead man's head for a moment. "Had he his hat on when he was pulled from under the platform?" he asked. "No. It was found after the doctor's examination, close to where the body had been." "Who found it?" "Watson--Brother Pluto." "Who first thought of looking for it?" Quarles asked. "I think Watson just stooped down and saw it. He would naturally think of it, since it was part of the dress." The professor nodded, as if the explanation satisfied him. Then he looked at the head, neck, and hands. "He was a singer, you say?" "Yes--a tenor." "What instrument did he play?" "I don't know." "Ah, a sad end. Henley, you say his name was--I see there is 'H' marked in pencil in his hat." "He called himself Henley," I answered; "it may not have been his real name. As I said, his companions know very little about him." "So his friends, if he has any, cannot be advised of the tragedy. This company of mummers is alone in its mourning for him. I should like to examine this hat more closely, Wigan. Can I take it away with me?" I arranged for him to do so, and we went back to the hotel. "Do you find it an interesting case, Professor?" I asked. "It certainly presents some difficulties which are interesting. The clue may lie in Henley's unknown past, and that might be a difficulty not to be overcome; or we may find the clue in jealousy." "You surely are not thinking that--" "Oh, I have not got so far as suspecting Watson or any of his companions," said Quarles, "but certain facts force us to keep an open mind, Wigan. To begin with, there was apparently no struggle before death. The blow was not so severe that a comparatively weak arm might not have delivered it, a woman's, for the sake of argument. We may, therefore, deduct two theories at once. He probably had no suspicion or fear of the person in whose company he was, and I think the doctor will endorse our statement if we affirm that he was not in a healthy condition. Personally, I should credit Henley with a fairly rapid past, which may account for his companions not looking upon the body with any particular kindness, as you noticed." "You seem to have built more on that idea of mine than I intended," I said. "I have built nothing at all on it," he answered. "I argue entirely from the appearance of the dead man. Another point. I looked for some sign that the dress had been put on after the man was dead. The signs all point to an opposite conclusion." "The dress puzzles me," I said.