"What restaurants?" 

 "Oh, all around. There's the Alcazar, for instance, where we have sometimes dined together." 

 "Does the head waiter there know her?" 

 "I suppose he would remember her face. He doesn't know the name." 

 "All right. I'll have him look at the body." 

 "But, man, you're going to let me look at it, aren't you?" exclaimed Jones. "That would settle it, I should think." 

 "I'll take you there now, and we will try to get somebody from the Alcazar at the same time." 

 Nick took the prisoner at once to the Alcazar. The head waiter remembered Jones' face. He had seen him dining with a lady who had beautiful light hair. 

 The three went to the undertaker's rooms. 

 Nick watched Jones narrowly as he approached the body. He started violently at the first sight of it. Then he became calm. 

 "The hair is wonderfully like," he said, "but there is no resemblance between the two faces." 

 "That is true, gentlemen," said the head waiter; "this is not the lady." 

 "On the contrary," said a voice close beside them, "I believe that this lady was your wife, Mr. Jones." 

 All the color went out of Jones' face as he turned quickly toward the man who had spoken. 

 "Ah, Mr. Gottlieb," he said, "I am surprised to hear you say that." 

 "Mr. Gottlieb is the grocer from whom the Joneses bought their supplies," said Chick, who had advanced to Nick's side. 

 "I was not aware that you had ever seen my wife," said Jones, looking searchingly at the grocer. 

 "I never saw her plainly," said Gottlieb. "She came into my store once or twice, but always closely veiled. So I cannot be sure; and, of course, if you insist that this is not your wife's body, I must be mistaken." 

 

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