"We saw him afterwards, coming up from the restaurant," Arnold
replied. "He did not seem to have been in the Grill Room at all."

Mr. Weatherley sat back in his chair and for several minutes he
remained silent. His eyes were fixed upon vacancy, his lips moved
once or twice, but he said nothing. He seemed, indeed, to have lost
the power of speech.

"It is extraordinary how the affair could have happened, almost
unnoticed, in such a crowded place," Arnold went on, feeling somehow
that it was best for him to talk. "There is nearly always a little
stream of people coming in, or a telephone boy, or some one passing,
but it happened that Mr. Rosario came in alone. He had just handed
his silk hat to the cloakroom attendant, who had turned away with
it, when the man who killed him slipped out from somewhere, caught
him by the throat, and it was all over in a few seconds. The
murderer seems to have kept his face entirely hidden. They do not
appear to have found a single person who could identify him. I had a
table quite close to the door, as you told me, and I really saw the
blow struck. We rushed outside, but, though I don't believe we were
more than a few seconds, there wasn't a soul in sight."

"The police will find out something," Mr. Weatherley muttered. "They
are sure to find out something."

"Some people think," Arnold continued, "that the man never left the
hotel, or, if he did, that he was taken away in a motor car. The
whole hotel was being searched very carefully when I left."

There was a knock at the door. Mr. Jarvis, who had been unable to