"I understand you wouldn't let Simmonds telephone for me last night?" queried Godfrey. "That's right--it wasn't none of your business." "Perhaps not. And yet, if I had been there, the cleverest thief in Paris, if not in the world, would be safe behind those chrome-nickle steel bars at the Twenty-third Street station, instead of at liberty to go ahead and rob somebody else." "You're mighty cocksure," retorted Grady. "It's easy to be wise after it's all over." "Well, I'm not going to argue with you," said Godfrey. "I admit it was a good disguise, and a clever idea--but, just the same, you ought to have seen through it. That's your business." Grady mopped his face. "Oh, of course!" he sneered. "I ought to have seen through it! I ought to have suspected, even when I found you tryin' to interview him; even when I got him off the boat myself; even when I went through his papers and found them all right--yes, even to the photograph on his passport! That's plain enough now, ain't it! If people only had as good foresight as they have hindsight, how easy it would be!" "Look here, Grady," said Godfrey, more kindly, "I haven't anything against you personally, and I admit that it was foolish of me to stand there talking to Crochard and never suspect who he was. But that's all beside the mark. You're at the head of the detective bureau, and you're the man who is responsible for all this. You're energetic enough and all that; but you're not fit for your job--it's too big for you, and you know it. Take my advice, and go to the 'phone there and send in your resignation." Grady stared at him as though unable to believe his ears. "'Phone in my resignation!" he echoed. "What kind of a fool do you think I am?" "I see you're a bigger one than I thought you were! Your pull can't help you any longer, Grady." "Was it to tell me that you got me over here?" "No," said Godfrey, "all this is just incidental--you began the discussion yourself, didn't you? I got you here to meet...." The outer door opened again, and Godfrey looked toward it, smiling. "Moosseer Piggott!" announced the office-boy. And then I almost bounced from my seat, for I would have sworn that the man who stood on the threshold was the man who had opened the secret drawer. He came forward, looking from face to face; then his eyes met Godfrey's and he smiled. "Behold that I am here, monsieur," he said and I started anew at the voice, for it was the voice of Crochard. "I hope that I have not kept you waiting." "Not at all, M. Pigot," Godfrey assured him, and placed a chair for him. I could see Grady and Simmonds gripping the arms of their chairs and staring at the newcomer, their mouths open; and I knew the thought that was flashing through their brains. Was this Pigot? Or was the man who had opened the cabinet Pigot? Or was neither Pigot? Was it possible that this could be a different man than the one who had opened the cabinet?