Meanwhile, Colson was making his way to the police station, which was at the bottom of the South Street. He seemed a little lost in thought, for he nearly ran into Canon Fittleworth, who was coming out of the Close to post a letter. “Oh,” said the Canon, recognising him, “have you got five minutes to spare? Thanks. If you don’t mind coming round to my house a minute, I’ve got that list ready.” “I should like to have it very much, sir,” replied Colson. The worthy Canon prided himself on his accuracy of detail. In his study he produced his list. “Mrs. Fittleworth and my daughter have carefully refreshed my memory,” he said. “Half a dozen times we’ve gone over all the men who dined here—or smoked with me—since I received that box of cigars. Here’s the list. I hope it won’t help you in one way—I mean, they are all my intimate friends!” He handed a paper to the detective, who ran his eye down the names eagerly. They were all prominent Frattenbury gentlemen—Dr. Hazell, Sir Peter Birchnall, Cathedral dignitaries, and so on. “I suppose you can’t remember if anyone here took away a cigar without smoking it, sir?” “Yes, I can,” said the Canon. “One of them who was dining here a few weeks ago was so struck with the flavour, that I gave him a dozen of them—put ’em in an empty box, and he took them with him.” “Indeed. Who was he?” And the Canon replied dryly, a twinkle in his eye: “The Dean!” Colson waited till he got outside the house. Then he said what he thought: “Damn these parsons!” CHAPTER XVIII Sir James Perrivale’s Story The advertisement inquiring for news of the whereabouts of Ezra Grice, some time of Frattenbury, was duly inserted in _The Times_ and other daily papers. The Chief Constable demurred a little at first, but finally agreed with Colson that there might be something in it, although, after the lapse of such a long period, the discovery of the individual in question had many chances against it. At the end of the week Colson had a letter from Anthony Crosby, in which he said: My advertisement for any correspondents of the late Mr. Templeton has had few results, and I send you them for what they are worth. I have, for convenience’s sake, tabulated them as follows: 1. Two letters written to friends at his club—one from Salcombe and another from Poole—ordinary letters stating he was shortly coming up to London. 2. Four letters to tradesmen, ordering certain goods. 3. A letter to the editor of a magazine of travel, arranging for the publication of an article. Neither of these, for I have made inquiries, refers to the matter of Ezra Grice. We may, therefore, build upon the elimination theory, and presume that if the recipient of the letter has seen my advertisement he prefers to say nothing about it.