“They have been removed, but whether recently; or years ago, we cannot tell,” the detective said. “It is annoying.” Carter left the vault and started uptown. So far, he considered that he had made very little progress with the investigation. He reached the Humberland House, and entered the café. It was four o’clock in the afternoon, and quite a number of men were in the place. He thought that there might be a chance of learning something here, and that was the reason why he had stopped. The man who had given Isabella Porter’s note to the messenger he thought might come into the place. He sat down at one of the tables, and proceeded to inspect the men around him. His attention was attracted toward a tall man who was seated at the next table, with a short, stout man. The man was well dressed. There was something about his manner the detective did not like, and he looked at him more closely than he otherwise would have done. All of a sudden it came to him that this man answered the description of the man who had given the messenger boy Isabella Porter’s note. Carter acted cautiously, so that the man would not notice that he was watching him. They spoke in low tones, and it was some time before the detective was able to catch a word they said. He leaned back in his chair and listened. The men were drinking. After a time they commenced to talk louder, and the detective was able to hear. A man of less experience would have started, and perhaps betrayed himself when he heard the stout man address his companion as Rich. Not so Carter. He did not move in his chair, or show any sign that he had heard a word. His eyes were fixed on a painting on the opposite wall, and apparently he was examining it. “Well, Rich,” the detective heard the stout man ejaculate, “I think you made a mistake.” For a while this was all he heard, for the man spoke in low tones again. But this was sufficient to make Carter more deeply interested in those two men. “Can this be Simeon Rich who conspired against Lawrence?” he asked himself. There was a chance that the man was in no way related to the murdered man. After a time the detective heard the man Rich remark: “Isabella made a mistake.” “I don’t know about that,” the stout man rejoined, and at the same time he lighted a fresh cigar, while he leaned back in his chair and blew the smoke up in the air over his head. “Darwin,” replied Rich, in a low, clear, deep voice, “I think you are unnecessarily alarmed.” “I am not. I have heard a great deal of that man’s ability.” “All such men are overestimated. When they are brought face to face with shrewd men they fail.” “Make no mistake. That man has circumvented shrewder men than we.” “Bosh!” “Even at this moment he may be in possession of important evidence.” “How could he secure it?” “I do not know, and yet I do not feel safe.” “I tell you, we have nothing to fear.” “You should never have had that letter of Isabella’s delivered.”