Armed with an introduction from the manager, French travelled down next morning to the Isle of Thanet. Mr. Hawkins was exceedingly polite and gave him all the information in his power. He remembered the Pykes having sailed on the last trip from Birkenhead to Marseilles. Stanley Pyke he had not come in contact with more than in the normal way of business, though they had once chatted for a few moments about the day’s run. But he had seen a good deal of Jefferson. He, Mr. Hawkins, had spent a year in the Argentine in Jefferson’s district and they had found they had many acquaintances in common. He had formed a high opinion of Jefferson, both as a man of the world and as a rancher. Both the cousins had seemed in every way normal, and several of the passengers had expressed regret when the two left the ship at Marseilles. On reaching London, French drove to the Houston. Showing his credentials, he asked whether two gentlemen, a Mr. Stanley and a Mr. Jefferson Pyke, had stayed there for one night towards the end of the previous July. It was not to be expected that the reception clerk would remember either visitor. But she soon turned up the register. The names appeared on July 21st, both having been written by Stanley. “That’s scarcely good enough for me,” said French. “It doesn’t prove that they were both here.” “Practically it does,” the clerk returned. “You see, each was allotted a room. If the rooms had not been occupied the allocation would have been cancelled, for at that time we were turning people away every night. But we can soon settle it.” She looked up her account books. “Here,” she went on after a moment, “are the accounts in question. Mr. Stanley occupied Number Three Forty-six and Mr. Jefferson Number Three Fifty-one. The accounts were paid separately. I receipted Mr. Stanley’s, and Miss Hurst, another of our staff, receipted Mr. Jefferson’s. Curiously,” she went on, “I remember Mr. Stanley paying. He broke the basin in his room and we had some discussion as to whether he would be charged for it. He was, in the end.” This would have seemed ample confirmation of Jefferson’s statement to most people, but French, with his passion for thoroughness, decided to see the chambermaid. She remembered the incident and remembered also that the gentleman’s friend had occupied No. 351, as on her bringing his hot water in answering to his ring, he had said he was late and would she go and wake his friend in No. 351. She had done as requested, but the friend was already up. From the Houston, French walked to Kettle Street. Yes, Mr. Jefferson had taken the rooms on the 22nd July last, and though he had been frequently away for a day or two at a time, he had lived there ever since. Moreover, Mrs. Welsh’s records enabled her to say that he had been absent not only on the night of the crime, but also on the date when the crate was disposed of at Swansea.