"And so the disappearance of the Italian has been classed as one of the unsolved mysteries in the annals of crime. But to me the only point on which I am not absolutely clear (although even there I hold a theory), is why Gerald Moville should have gone wandering about the moor after he had parted from Winnie Gooden, and when he hadn't very much time left to catch his train, if he didn't want to miss his connection at Dalton. That point did strike Inspector Dodsworth of the C.I.D., who had been sent down from London to assist the local police in the investigation of the crime. I know Dodsworth very well, and he and I discussed that point once or twice. Of course, I was not going to give him the key to the whole mystery--a key, mind you, which I had discovered for myself--but I didn't object to talking over one or two of the minor details with the man, and I told him that in my opinion Moville undoubtedly went out on the moor in order to meet Vissio, and have it out with him on the subject of Winnie. "He wanted Winnie--badly--to come away with him, and I believe that he was just the sort of man who would think that he could bribe the Italian to stand aside for him by offering him money. I believe those half-bred Spaniards and Portuguese out in Argentina are a most corrupt and venal crowd, and Gerald Moville classed Vissio amongst that lot. I have no doubt whatever in my mind that Moville was walking across the moor to see if he couldn't find Vissio in Topcoat's cottage. It was obviously not for me to tell the police that the Poacher's Leap is in a direct line between that cottage and the place where the two-seater was seen at a standstill on the roadside. But Dodsworth had to admit that I was right on that point." "Then you think," I rejoined, "that Mr. Moville, after he parted from Winnie Gooden, set out to seek an interview with Antonio Vissio with a view to entering into an arrangement with him about the girl?" "Yes!" my eccentric friend assented with a nod. "He wanted to bribe Vissio to stand aside for him?" "Exactly." "Then," I went on, "he met Vissio on the moor?" "Yes!" "Came out with his proposition?" "Yes!" "Which so enraged the Italian that he knocked the other man down and finally knifed him in accordance with the amiable custom of his country." "No," the Old Man in the Corner retorted dryly, "I didn't say that." "But we know that the two men met and that----" "And that one of them was killed," he broke in quickly. "But that man was not Gerald Moville." "He was seen," I argued, "at Falconblane, at Beith, and at Glasgow. The man with the dirty face, the motor coat, and the goggles." "Exactly," he broke in once more. "The man in the cap with the flap ears, and wearing motor goggles; the man whose face and hair were, in addition, covered with grime. An excellent disguise; as it indeed proved to be." "But the foreign accent? The man spoke broken English."