Johnson rose, feeling he had done well and impressed his sagacity upon his chief. "I believe, sir, when you think it over you will admit that such a delayed scheme of vengeance would not be carried out, after the lapse of so many years, by a man of ordinary sanity. I admit it might be carried out by a lunatic, or a person half-demented, on the borderland--a man who had brooded over an ancient wrong till he became obsessed." Smeaton nodded, in comprehension. His subordinate was developing unsuspected powers. "Wait a moment, Johnson. We know certain things. We know Bolinski--who wrote the threatening letter--is out of it, so far as active participation is concerned. Lady Wrenwyck is out of it. We know the two who put the dying man in the cab. We know about Farloe and Saxton. We know about the Italian who died at Forest View. We know about the man Whyman, who invited me to stay the night, and disappeared before I was up next morning. You know all these things, everything that has taken place since I took up the case. You have thought it all over." "I have thought it all over," replied Johnson, always deferential and always imperturbable. "Don't go yet," said Smeaton. "Frankly, we seem to have come to a dead end. Have _you_ anything to suggest?" Johnson's triumph was complete. That the great Smeaton should seek the advice of a lieutenant, except in the most casual and non-committal way, was a thing unprecedented. But, following the example of other great men, he did not lose his head. He spoke with his accustomed deliberation, his usual deference. "The mystery, if it ever is solved, sir, will be solved at Forest View. Keep a watch on that house, day and night." He emphasised the last word, and looked squarely at his chief. Smeaton gave a sudden start. "You know Varney is watching it." "A clever fellow, sir; relies upon intuition largely and has little patience with our slower methods. He watches it by day--well, no doubt--but he doesn't watch it by night. Many strange things happen when the sun has gone down." Smeaton smiled a little uneasily. "You are relying on intuition now yourself, Johnson. But this conversation has given me food for thought. I will carry out your suggestion. In the meantime understand that, in this last mission, you have done all that is possible. I shall send in a report to that effect." Johnson withdrew, well pleased with the interview. He had greatly advanced himself in his chief's estimation and he had skilfully avoided wounding Smeaton's _amour propre_. The day was fated to be one of unpleasant surprises. A few hours later Varney dashed into his room, in a state of great excitement. "Astounding news--infernal news!" he cried, dashing his hat down on the table. "But first look at this, and see if you recognise the original." He handed Smeaton a snapshot. The detective examined it carefully. Truth to tell, it was not a very brilliant specimen of photographic art.