“Is the man merely a weak fool—weak because untried by any of the deeper experiences of life, and foolish only because he is young? or is he—worse?” he asked, in a low voice; “that is what I want to know. Temperamentally the person in question is at odds with myself. I—don’t like him. But, understand, I must not rely on my likes and dislikes in this matter. I—am obliged to be—fair to him, at all costs.” “I understand, Mr. Jarvis,” assented the detective. “And I will tell you frankly that my own initial impressions—and I have learned to rely somewhat on first impressions as being in the main correct—are that the person referred to is somewhat inconstant, easily led, excitable, with all the faults of youth and—quite possibly”—he paused to again study the face before him, “—many of its virtues. He is, on his own testimony, selfish, extravagant, passionate.” He shook his head slowly. “I should not,” he went on, “care to trust such a man with interests calling for a high degree of business sagacity or—er—let us say sober industry. I believe it was something of the sort you questioned.” Jarvis threw himself back in his chair. His haggard eyes met the detective’s squarely. “Is the fellow fit to marry a good and pure woman?” he asked. “Could he command her respect and hold her affection? That’s test enough for me.” Mr. Todd moved uneasily in his chair. “Oh, as to that,” he hesitated, “there are all sorts of women, you know. Some of ’em like a man all the better—or appear to—if he—well; if he isn’t too good, you know. I’ve known a woman,” he went on strongly, “to marry a man who’d drink and abuse her, and yet she’d love him and stick to him to the last. There’s something queer about women, when it comes to loving a man. His character doesn’t seem to count for so much as you’d suppose.” Jarvis assented dryly. “You think the person in question would be likely to—do as you suggested?” “It would be a toss-up,” said Mr. Todd thoughtfully, “as to whether he’d settle down into a steady, respectable sort of a citizen, or—” he paused to button his coat painstakingly “—the opposite. I’ll follow him up a while longer,” he went on, “and report from day to day. In a case like this, where you don’t feel like trusting your own judgment, it’s best to let facts talk.” Mr. Todd looked searchingly into the depths of his hat. “Facts will talk, you know,” he said confidently. “They’re bound to. Sooner or later, something comes along that tells the story. I’ve shadowed many a person in the past as could tell you that, sir, from behind prison bars.” XX