"But some of the people about the sea-baths and the tent attendants would
know it was not Henley," said Zena.

"We have evidence that he was a very quiet, reticent man," said Quarles.
"They probably hardly saw him in the daytime, and at night he would have
a painted face, and the fact that he was wearing the dress would go a
long way to convince any one who chanced to see him in the dim light at
the back of the stage that night."

"And who do you suppose he was?" I asked.

"We will go back to Watson and Miss Day," said Quarles. "Miss Day was
silent on the question of love, fearful, I take it, that her natural
repugnance to the man might serve to betray the conspiracy. I believe
the conspiracy was formed on the spur of the moment, just before Watson
came from behind the curtains that evening and asked whether you were a
doctor. I should say the dead man had pestered her, and that she was
relieved by his death. I find some confirmation of this in Watson's
attitude. He talks of some of the best men having been in prison, in such
a way, in fact, that his wife hastens to laugh at his hobby, afraid that
he will betray himself. Now he could hardly have been referring to the
dead man; he declared himself that he was not thinking of Henley; I
suggest that he was thinking of himself."

"And you accused me of jumping to a conclusion!" I exclaimed.

"I haven't finished yet," answered the professor. "Here is my complete
theory. The dead man knew something of Watson's past, and was holding
that knowledge over him, blackmailing him, in fact, and I think the