“Blood!” Carter ejaculated, as he inspected these stains. He looked inside the ulster at the stamp on the strap. “Made by Delaney,” he read. “This was made to order,” he muttered. “For whom?” That was the question. “I’ll find out!” he ejaculated, after a moment’s thought. Down into the pockets of this ulster his hand was shoved. One after the other was turned inside out. Not a scrap of paper could he find. All the outside pockets had been gone through. Then Carter turned his attention to those inside. “Nothing!” he muttered. It was disappointing. But the detective was not downcast. He picked up the slouch hat and the beard, and examined them. Inside the beard was stamped the word Dazian. “That’s the name of the costumer,” Carter muttered, as he read that name. There were no marks inside the hat. The lining had been torn out. The ulster and the hat the detective tied up in a bundle, and the false beard he put into his pocket. For a few minutes longer he remained in the room searching, but he made no further discovery. Taking the evidence under his arm, he left the apartment. It was an important discovery. He felt sure that he had in his possession the ulster worn by the murderer when he committed the crime. In going down in the elevator the detective questioned the boy in charge. The boy said that Rich and Darwin had moved out just at dusk, and they did not say where they were going. Carter stopped at the office, and the clerk was not able to give him any information. When he left the Studio Building he was perfectly calm. He did not seem to be disturbed about the sudden departure of the men. The thought that they might have left the city did not enter his mind. Carter crossed Broadway to the little park in front of the bank building. Here he moved about among the cabmen making inquiries. All claimed that they had not taken any fares from the Studio Building. From Greeley Square the detective walked across to the opposite corner, where a solitary express wagon was standing. The man in charge was partly intoxicated. “Did you cart away anything from the Studio Building this evening?” Carter asked as he came up to the man. “You may bet I did,” the man blurted out in thick tones. “I made a good stake.” “They were nice men?” “You may bet they were.” “Where did you leave the things?” “In a flat at number two hundred and forty-one West Thirty-sixth Street.” “What name?” “Lawrence.” “Are you sure that was the name?” “Of course I am. The tall fellow wrote it down on a slip of paper for me.” “Was he at the flat to receive the things?” “No. The two ladies were there, though.” “Only the two ladies?” “That was all.” Carter did not go direct to the address on West Thirty-sixth Street after he left the expressman. He hurried down to Union Square and entered Dazian’s musty-smelling establishment. To the clerk in charge he showed the false beard.