Therewith he walked out of the room; and Methley, after a quiet word with Carless, followed--to be stopped in the corridor, for a second time that day, by Viner, who had hurried after him. "I'm not going to express any opinion on what we've just heard," whispered Viner, drawing Methley aside, "but in view of what I told you this morning, there's something I want you to do for me." "Yes!" said Methley. "What?" "That unlucky fellow Hyde, who is on remand, is to be brought before the magistrate tomorrow morning," answered Viner. "Get him--this claimant there, to attend the court as a spectator--go with him! Use any argument you like, but get him there! I've a reason--which I'll explain later." "I'll do my best," promised Methley. "And I've an idea of what's on your mind. You want to find out if Hyde can recognize him as the man whom he met at the Markendale Square end of Lonsdale Passage?" "Well, that is my idea!" assented Viner. "So get him there." Methley nodded and turned away; then he turned back and pointed at Carless' room. "What do they really think in there?" he whispered. "Tell me--between ourselves?" "That he is an impostor, and that there's a conspiracy," replied Viner. Methley nodded again, and Viner went back. The men whom he had left were talking excitedly. "It was the only course to take!" Mr. Carless was declaring. "Uncompromising hostility! We could do no other. You saw--quite well--that he was all for money. I will engage that we could have settled with him for one half of what he asked. But--who is he?" "The middle finger of his right hand is gone!" said Mr. Pawle, who had been very quiet and thoughtful during the recent proceedings. "Remember that, Carless!" "A most extraordinary coincidence!" exclaimed Mr. Carless excitedly. "I don't care twopence what anybody says--we all know that the most surprising coincidences do occur. Nothing but a coincidence! I assert--what is it, Portlethwaite?" The elderly clerk had been manifesting a strong desire to get in a word, and he now rapped his senior employer's elbow. "Mr. Carless," he said earnestly, "you know that before I came to you, now nearly forty years ago, I was a medical student: you know, too, you and Mr. Driver, why I gave up medicine for the law. But--I haven't forgotten all of that I learned in the medical schools and the hospitals." "Well, Portlethwaite," demanded Mr. Carless, "what is it? You've some idea?" "Gentlemen," answered the elderly clerk. "I was always particularly interested in anatomy in my medical student days. I've been looking attentively at what I could see of that man's injured finger since he sat down at that desk. And I'll lay all I have that he lost the two joints of that finger within the last three months! The scar over the stump had not long been healed. That's a fact!" Mr. Carless looked round with a triumphant smile. "There!" he exclaimed. "What did I tell you? Coincidence--nothing but coincidence!"