‘I believe, sir,’ he said, ‘that if I told you just what was troubling me, you might be able to help me out, if you would. I was asking you about Edward Dale, but I did not tell you much about the man we arrested. In the first place, Douglas, as he says his name is, came to England from New York, where he was employed as a clerk in the Pennsylvania Railway for several years. We have traced his movements back to 1892, previous to which we can discover nothing whatever about him. Now, you tell me Edward Dale left for the States about the year 1882, and has since been lost sight of. That is coincidence Number One.’ Mr Clayton nodded without speaking. He was listening with eager attention. ‘Next,’ continued Tanner, ‘I did not tell you whose murder the man Douglas was suspected of. It was that of Sir William Ponson.’ ‘God bless my soul!’ cried the other, ‘you don’t say so? A terrible affair that. And you think you’ve got the man, do you? All I can say is, I’d like to see him hanged.’ ‘It seems clear from various things,’ Tanner went on, ‘that the trouble originated before Douglas went to America. Now Edward Dale knew Sir William in those days. That is coincidence Number Two.’ ‘You said, I think, that Douglas’s history could not be traced before he became a clerk in the Pennsylvania Railway? How then do you know he left England prior to that?’ ‘We don’t absolutely know, but we think it for two reasons: first, he can speak with a North of England accent, and secondly, that in an old book of his we found the photograph of the Dales’ grave.’ The other nodded. ‘That photograph,’ continued Tanner, ‘is coincidence Number Three. Few men would have such a photograph unless it represented something connected with their own families. And coincidence Number Four, Mr Clayton, is this. Douglas is a very short man with very small hands and feet.’ ‘God bless my soul!’ Mr Clayton exclaimed again. ‘But this is most interesting. Go on, Mr Tanner.’ ‘Well, sir, that leads me up to a very obvious question. You must have guessed it. You have known Dale intimately in the past; could you identify him now?’ Tanner sat back in his chair and drew at his cigar. The other did not answer for a moment. Then as he slowly refilled his pipe, he said hesitatingly: ‘I hardly like to say. Thirty-eight years is a long time, and a man might change a lot during it. I think I would recognise Edward if I saw him, but I couldn’t be sure.’ ‘Then, sir, my second question follows naturally. Will you come up to London and try?’ The other smiled. ‘It’s a long journey for a man of my years,’ he said, ‘but I imagine I have no choice. You Scotland Yard people are so autocratic.’ Tanner smiled in his turn. ‘If you will come at our expense, sir, you will confer a great favour on us. Do you prefer day or night travel?’ ‘Day. When would you like me to go?’ ‘The sooner the better, sir. Tomorrow, if it would be convenient.’