investigating the make of the safety razor and the manufacturer's
name on the bronze-green tie. Now, however, he paused and frowned,
as though some pet theory had been upset.

Then from a corner of the bag he drew out and held up for our
inspection some three inches of fine gold chain, one end of which
was blackened and stained with blood!

The conductor held out his hand for it, but the little man was not
ready to give it up. He turned to me.

"You say no watch was left you? Was there a piece of chain like
that?"

"No chain at all," I said sulkily. "No jewelry of any kind, except
plain gold buttons in the shirt I am wearing."

"Where are your glasses?" he threw at me suddenly: instinctively my
hand went to my eyes. My glasses had been gone all morning, and I
had not even noticed their absence. The little man smiled cynically
and held out the chain.

"I must ask you to examine this," he insisted. "Isn't it a part of
the fine gold chain you wear over your ear?"

I didn't want to touch the thing: the stain at the end made me
shudder. But with a baker's dozen of suspicious eyes--well, we'll
say fourteen: there were no one-eyed men--I took the fragment in
the tips of my fingers and looked at it helplessly.