T. B. himself does not know to this day why he was moved to produce this disappointing little diagram at that moment. It may have been that, as a forlorn hope, he relied upon the application of a fresh young mind to the problem which was so stale in his, for Van Ingen had never seen the diagram.
He looked and frowned.
"Is that all?" he asked, without disguising his disappointment.
"That is all," responded T. B.
They sat looking at the diagram in silence. Van Ingen, as was his peculiarity, scribbled mechanically on the blotting pad before him.
He drew flowers, and men's heads, and impossible structures of all kinds; he made inaccurate tracings of maps, of columns, pediments, squares, and triangles. Then, in the same absent way, he made a rough copy of the diagram.
Then his pencil stopped and he sat bolt upright.
"Gee!" he whispered.
The detective looked up in astonishment.
"Whew!" whistled Van Ingen. "Have you got an atlas, Smith?"