"There might have been somebody else in the room." 

 "No; our waiter told us that the party consisted of only two." 

 "You mean Corbut?" 

 "I believe that's his name—the fellow who disappeared." 

 "How do you account for his disappearance?" 

 "I don't; but perhaps he was afraid of being mixed up in the affair. He may have a record which won't permit him to go before the police, even as a witness." 

 "How could he have got that cab?" 

 "I've thought a good deal about that. It was mentioned in the papers. I believe he may have slipped out the front way, called the cab, and then gone back to get something. 

 "Perhaps he went back for his clothes but didn't dare to take them." 

 "And how about the cabman's story of the man who engaged the cab?" 

 "The cabman's a liar. That's plain enough." 

 "I'm afraid he is. Now, Mr. Hammond, could either Corbut or this man Gaspard have got into room B without your knowing it?" 

 "Easily. Great heavens, I never thought of that! One of them may be the murderer!" 

 Gaspard, at these words, turned as white as a sheet. 

 He was so frightened that his English—which was usually very fluent—deserted him, and he mumbled protestations of innocence in his mother tongue. 

 "Thank you, Mr. Hammond," said Nick, without appearing to notice Gaspard's distress. "I have no more questions to ask, but I would be obliged to you if you would wait here a few minutes for me." 

 Nick went into another room, where he knew that Patsy was waiting. 

 A set of signals is arranged in Nick's house, by which he always knows when one of his staff gets in. 

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