In the privacy of the solicitor’s study French introduced himself and in confidence declared his mission to the town. He apologised for troubling the other on Sunday, but said that at the moment he wished only to ask one question: Could Mr. Oxley tell him, or could he find out for him from Miss Averill, what daily paper the late Mr. Averill had taken? Mr. Oxley did not know, and excused himself to interrogate Ruth. Presently he returned to say it was the _Leeds Mercury_. Next morning French took the first train to Leeds, and going to the _Mercury_ office, asked to see the files of the paper for the month of September. Commencing at the 15th, the day of the fire, he began working back through the papers, scrutinising each sheet for a paragraph headed “RAT-CATCHER’S F——” He found it sooner than he had expected. Tucked in among a number of small news items in the paper of Tuesday, 14th September, he read: “RAT-CATCHER’S FATAL FALL.” And when he saw that the type was similar to that on the burnt scrap and the last line of the preceding paragraph was “Mr. Thomas is doing as well as can be expected,” with the “—ng as we—” in the correct position relative to the “RAT-CATCHER’S F——” he knew he had really got what he wanted. French was extraordinarily thorough. Long experience had taught him that everything in the nature of a clue should be followed up to the very end. He did not therefore desist when he had made his find. Instead he worked on to see if he could identify any of the other scraps he had found. And before he left he had found eight out of the eleven he had mounted, and proved that the burnt papers were those of the 13th, 14th, and 15th; the three days before the fire. So far, then, the indications were at least for continuing the investigation. Leaving the _Mercury_ office, French walked up the Briggate to Messrs. Carter & Stephenson’s, the makers of the safe. He asked for one of the principals, and was presently shown into Mr. Stephenson’s room. Introducing himself in the strictest confidence in his true guise, he propounded his question: Was the safe absolutely fireproof? Mr. Stephenson rose and went to a drawer from which he took a number of photographs. “Look at those,” he invited, “and tell me was the fire at Starvel any worse than those fires?” The views were all of burnt-out buildings, most of them completely gutted and resembling the wreckage of Starvel. French assured him that the cases seemed on all fours. “Very well, there were safes in all those fires—safes just the same as that at Starvel, and all those safes had papers in them, and there wasn’t a single paper in any one of them so much as browned.” French took out his burnt fragments. “Look at those, Mr. Stephenson,” he invited in his turn. “Suppose there were newspapers in that safe before the fire, could they have come out like that after it?”