it. A dozen times with his hand on the lever he lets hismind explore the possibilities of a moment's defection. Then one dayhe pulls the signal off in sheer bravado--and hastily puts it atdanger again. He may have done it once or he may have done it oftenerbefore he was caught in a fatal moment of irresolution. The chancesare about even that the engine-driver would be killed. In any case hewould be disgraced, for it is easier on the face of it to believe thata man might run past a danger signal in absentmindedness, withoutnoticing it, than that a man should pull off a signal and replace itwithout being conscious of his actions."

  "The fireman was killed. Does your theory involve the certainty of thefireman being killed, Louis?"

  "No," said Carlyle. "The fireman is a difficulty, but looking at itfrom Mead's point of view--whether he has been guilty of an error or acrime--it resolves itself into this: First, the fireman may be killed.Second, he may not notice the signal at all. Third, in any case hewill loyally corroborate his driver and the good old jury willdiscount that."

  Carrados smoked thoughtfully, his open, sightless eyes merelyappearing to be set in a tranquil gaze across the room.

  "It would not be an improbable explanation," he said presently."Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would say: 'People do not do thesethings.' But you and I, who have in our different ways studiedcriminology, know that they sometimes do, or else there would be nocurious crimes. What have you done on that line?"

  To anyone who could see, Mr. Carlyle's expression conveyed an answer.

  "You are behind the scenes, Max. What was there for me to do? Still Imust do something for my money. Well, I have had a very close inquirymade confidentially among the men. There might be a whisper of one ofthem knowing more than had come out--a man restrained by friendship,or enmity, or even grade jealousy. Nothing came of that. Then therewas the remote chance that some private person had noticed the signalwithout attaching any importance to it then, one who would be able toidentify it still by something associated with the time. I went overthe line myself. Opposite the signal the line on one side is shut inby a high blank wall; on the other side are houses, but coming belowthe butt-end of a scullery the signal does not happen to be visiblefrom any road or from any window."

  "My poor Louis!" said Carrados, in friendly ridicule. "You were at theend of your tether?"

  "I was," admitted Carlyle. "And now that you know the sort of job itis I don't suppose that you are keen on wasting your time over it."

  "That would hardly be fair, would it?" said Carrados reasonably. "No,Louis, I will take over your honest old driver and your greasy youngsignalman and your fatal signal that cannot be seen from anywhere."

  "But it is an important point for you to remember, Max, that althoughthe signal cannot be seen from the box, if the mechanism had gonewrong, or anyone tampered with the arm, the automatic indicator wouldat once have told Mead that the green light was showing. Oh, I havegone very thoroughly into the technical points, I assure you."

  "I must do so too," commented Mr. Carrados gravely.

  "For that matter, if there is anything you want to know, I dare saythat I can tell you," suggested his visitor. "It might save yourtime."

  "True," acquiesced Carrados. "I should like to know whether anyonebelonging to the houses that bound the line there came of age or gotmarried on the twenty-sixth of November."

  Mr. Carlyle looked across curiously at his host.

  "I really do not know, Max," he replied, in his crisp, precise way."What on earth has that got to do with it, may I inquire?"

  "The only explanation of the Pont St. Lin swing-bridge disaster of '75was the reflection of a green bengal light on a cottage window."

  Mr. Carlyle smiled his indulgence privately.

  "My dear chap, you mustn't let your retentive memory of obscurehappenings run away with you," he remarked wisely. "In nine cases outof ten the obvious explanation is the true one. The difficulty, ashere, lies in proving it. Now, you would like to see these men?"

  "I expect so; in any case, I will see Hutchins first."

  "Both live in Holloway. Shall I ask Hutchins to come here to seeyou--say to-morrow? He is doing nothing."

  "No," replied Carrados. "To-morrow I must call on my brokers and mytime may be filled up."

  "Quite right; you mustn't neglect your own affairs forthis--experiment," assented Carlyle.

  "Besides, I should prefer to drop in on Hutchins at his own home. Now,Louis, enough of the honest old man for one night. I have a lovelything by Eumenes that I want to show you. To-day is--Tuesday. Come todinner on Sunday and pour the vials of your ridicule on my want ofsuccess."

  "That's an amiable way of putting it," replied Carlyle. "All right, Iwill."

  Two hours later Carrados was again in his study, apparently, for awonder, sitting idle. Sometimes he smiled to himself, and once ortwice he laughed a little, but for the most part his pleasant,impassive face reflected no emotion and he sat with his useless eyestranquilly fixed on an unseen distance. It was a fantastic caprice ofthe man to mock his sightlessness by a parade of light, and under thesoft brilliance of a dozen electric brackets the room was as bright asday. At length he stood up and rang the bell.

  "I suppose Mr. Greatorex isn't still here by any chance, Parkinson?"he asked, referring to his secretary.

  "I think not, sir, but I will ascertain," replied the man.

  "Never mind. Go to his room and bring me the last two files of _TheTimes_. Now"--when he returned--"turn to the earliest you have there.The date?"

  "November the second."

  "That will do. Find the Money Market; it will be in the Supplement.Now look down the columns until you come to British Railways."

  "I have it, sir."

  "Central and Suburban. Read the closing price and the change."

  "Central and Suburban Ordinary, 66-1/2-67-1/2, fall 1/8. PreferredOrdinary, 81-81-1/2, no change. Deferred Ordinary, 27-1/2-27-3/4, fall1/4. That is all, sir."

  "Now take a paper about a week on. Read the Deferred only."

  "27-27-1/4, no change."

  "Another week."

  "29-1/2-30, rise 5/8."

  "Another."

  "31-1/2-32-1/2, rise 1."

  "Very good. Now on Tuesday the twenty-seventh November."

  "31-7/8-32-3/4, rise 1/2."

  "Yes. The next day."

  "24-1/2-23-1/2, fall 9."

  "Quite so, Parkinson. There had been an accident, you see."

  "Yes, sir. Very unpleasant accident. Jane knows a person whosesister's young man has a cousin who had his arm torn off in it--tornoff at the socket, she says, sir. It seems to bring it home to one,sir."

  "That is all. Stay--in the paper you have, look down the first moneycolumn and see if there is any reference to the Central and Suburban."

  "Yes, sir. 'City and Suburbans, which after their late depression onthe projected extension of the motor bus service, had been steadilycreeping up on the abandonment of the scheme, and as a result of theirown excellent traffic returns, suffered a heavy slump through thelamentable accident of Thursday night. The Deferred in particular atone time fell eleven points as it was felt that the possible dividend,with which rumour has of late been busy, was now out of thequestion.'"

  "Yes; that is all. Now you can take the papers back. And let it be awarning to you, Parkinson, not to invest your savings in speculativerailway deferreds."

  "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir, I will endeavour to remember." He lingeredfor a moment as he shook the file of papers level. "I may say, sir,that I have my eye on a small block of cottage property at Acton. Buteven cottage property scarcely seems safe from legislative depredationnow, sir."

  The next day Mr. Carrados called on his brokers in the city. It is tobe presumed that he got through his private business quicker than heexpected, for after leaving Austin Friars he continued his journey toHolloway, where he found Hutchins at home and sitting morosely beforehis kitchen fire. Rightly assuming that his luxuriant car wouldinvolve him in a certain amount of public attention in Klon
dykeStreet, the blind man dismissed it some distance from the house, andwalked the rest of the way, guided by the almost imperceptible touchof Parkinson's arm.

  "Here is a gentleman to see you, father," explained Miss Hutchins, whohad come to the door. She divined the relative positions of the twovisitors at a glance.

  "Then why don't you take him into the parlour?" grumbled theex-driver. His face was a testimonial of hard work and generalsobriety but at the moment one might hazard from his voice and mannerthat he had been drinking earlier in the day.

  "I don't think that