The Old Man in the Corner

shed aside his glass, an

a mystery in connection with any crime, provided int

he top of her newspaper, and fixed a pair of ve

p and sat down opposite to her, at the same marble-topped table which already h

own corner, table, and view. Here she had partaken of eleven pennyworth of luncheon and one pennyworth of daily information ever since that glorious never-to-be-forgotten day when she

s Burton of the Evening Observ

rough House garden party-in the cloak-room, that is to say, where she caught sight of Lady Thingummy's hat, Miss What-you-may-call's sunshade, and of various othe

B., and is to be found in the file

irate with the man in the corner, and told him so with

lpitatingly interesting. Had Polly been commenting audibly upon it? Certai

arance of the man was sufficient to tickle the most ultra-morose fancy. Polly thought to herself that she had never seen any one so pale, so thin, with such funny light-coloured hair, brushed very smoothly across the top o

y detail of the quaint person

-informed journal, will tell you that, even within the last year, no fewer than six cri

there were no mysteries to the police; I merely remarked that there were n

Street mystery. I suppose

alled Fenchurch Street my

ested, fascinated; she had studied the case, formed her own theories, thought about it all often and often, had even written one or two letters to the Press on the subject-suggesting, arguing, hinting at possibilities and probabilities, adducing pr

u do not offer your priceless services to

nd place my inclinations and my duty would-were I to become an active member of the detective force-nearly always be in direct con

sed, but with an unmistakable air of having seen better days, gave information at Scotland Yard of the disappearance of her husband, William Kershaw, of no occupation, a

m. On arriving at the squalid lodging in Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square, he found William Kershaw in a wild state of excitement, and his wife in tears. Müller attempted to state the object of his visit, but Kershaw, with wild gestures

ng the cautious German obdurate, decided to let him into the secre

er, with his nervous air and timid, watery eyes, had a pecu

every detail by the wife or widow. Briefly it was this: Some thirty years previously, Kershaw, then twenty years of age,

bi; he had spent the night on duty at the hospital; as for Barker, he had disappeared, that is to say, as far as the police were concerned, but not as far as the watchful eyes of his friend Kershaw were able to spy-at least, so the latter said.

alled Barker, and had committed a murder thirty years ago, was never proved, was it? I am merely telling you

s had no bearing on the case, since they were written more than twenty-five years ago, and Kershaw, moreover, had lost them-so he said-long ago. According to him, howev

downhill, Smethurst, as he then already called himself, sent his whilom friend ￡50. After that, as Müller gathered, Kershaw had made sundry demands on Smethurst's eve

ten by Smethurst, and which, if you remember, played such an important part in the mysterious story of this extraordinary crime. I have a copy of both these lett

ave sold my business, starts in a few days for an extended tour to many European and Asiatic ports in his yacht, and has invited me to accompany him as far as England. Being tired of foreign parts, and desirous of seeing the old country once again after thirty years' absence, I have decided to accept his invitation. I don't know when we may ac

am,

rs t

is Sme

enough, was the only letter which Kershaw professed to have received from Smethurst of which he had kept t

I can get. If you like, you may meet me at Fenchurch Street Station, in the first-class waiting-room, in the late afternoon. Since I surmise that after thirty years' absence my face may not be familiar to you, I may as

faith

is Sme

and muttering sundry exclamations. Mrs. Kershaw, however, was full of apprehension. She mistrusted the man from foreign parts-who, according to her husband's story, had already one crime upon his

nxious, but the fat German had been won over by Kershaw's visions of untold gold, held tantalisingly before his eyes. He had lent the necessary ￡2, with which his friend intended to tidy himself up a bit b

poseless and futile inquiries about the neighbourhood of Fenchurch Street; and on the 12th she went to Scotland