With no good grace Inspector Robson gave his name, which was placed beneath his portrait. Then Applebee was asked for his name, and it was given more willingly. The worthy constable had no objection to his features appearing in "The Illustrated Afternoon"; the picture would be preserved in the family as an heirloom.
"And yours?" inquired the artist, of Dick.
"Private person," said Dick.
"Thank you," said the artist, and wrote beneath the portrait, "Private Person who, for Unexplained Reasons, Declined to Give his Name."
The insertion of the key in the lock caused much excitement, and all the artillery of the press was brought to bear upon the inspector. The industrious journalists advanced cogent reasons why they should be let into the house; they begged, they clamoured, but they could not convince the obdurate inspector.
"Very sorry, gentlemen," he said, "but it can't be allowed."
He could not, however, prevent them from obtaining a glimpse of the dark passage, and this glimpse was quite sufficient to enable them to give a vivid description of the walls, the staircase, and the umbrella stand with one umbrella in it, which the eagle eye of the smarter of the artists transferred like lightning to his pad. It was an interesting feature in his article, "The Murdered Man's Umbrella." There was great disappointment among the group outside when the door was closed upon them.
"You've been up these stairs often enough, Dick," said Inspector Robson. "Take us to the room."
His eyes opened wide when they reached the office, and both he and Constable Applebee stared around in amazement.
"Did you ever see anything like this, Applebee?"