“They hadn’t until a couple of days ago,” interrupted Leon. “The laboratory was staged especially for her.” Meadows nodded, then turned to Manfred. “He didn’t give you any idea at all why he wanted to meet Miss Leicester?” George shook his head. “No, he was very mysterious indeed on that subject,” he said. “He arrived by the _Benguella_, eh?” said Meadows, making a note. “We ought to get something from the ship before they pay off their stewards. If a man isn’t communicative on board ship, he’ll never talk at all! And we may find something in his belongings. Would you like to come along, Manfred?” “I’ll come with pleasure,” said George gravely. “I may help you a little—you will not object to my making my own interpretation of what we see?” Meadows smiled. “You will be allowed your private mystery,” he said. A taxi set them down at the Petworth Hotel in Norfolk Street, and they were immediately shown up to the room which the dead man had hired but had not as yet occupied. His trunk, still strapped and locked, stood on a small wooden trestle, his overcoat was hanging behind the door; in one corner of the room was a thick hold-all, tightly strapped, and containing, as they subsequently discovered, a weather-stained mackintosh, two well-worn blankets and an air pillow, together with a collapsible canvas chair, also showing considerable signs of usage. This was the object of their preliminary search. The lock of the trunk yielded to the third key which the detective tried. Beyond changes of linen and two suits, one of which was practically new and bore the tab of a store in St. Paul de Loanda, there was very little to enlighten them. They found an envelope full of papers, and sorted them out one by one on the bed. Barberton was evidently a careful man: he had preserved his hotel bills, writing on their backs brief but pungent comments about the accommodation he had enjoyed or suffered. There was an hotel in Lobuo which was full of vermin; there was one at Mossamedes of which he had written: “Rats ate one boot. Landlord made no allowance. Took three towels and pillow-slip.” “One of the Four Just Men in embryo,” said Meadows dryly. Manfred smiled. On the back of one bill were closely written columns of figures: “12/6, 13/15, 10/7, 17/12, about 24,” etc. Against a number of these figures the word “about” appeared, and Manfred observed that invariably this qualification marked one of the higher numbers. Against the 10/7 was a thick pencil mark. There were amongst the papers several other receipts. In St. Paul he had bought a “pistol automatic of precision” and ammunition for the same. The “pistol automatic of precision” was not in the trunk. “We found it in his pocket,” said Meadows briefly. “That fellow was expecting trouble, and was entitled to, if it is true that they tortured him at Mosamodes.”