But Bates had nothing of the kind, and the whole thing looked like coming to a deadlock, when Rigby suddenly recollected that a portrait of Padini was to be obtained at the office of the Planet. The violinist's portrait had been produced in the Planet two days before, and the original was still lying about the office.
"I'll take a cab and be back in ten minutes," Rigby said.
He was back in the prescribed time, and produced a cabinet portrait of Padini, which he handed over to the superintendent.
"Now, what do you make of that?" he asked.
[CHAPTER XX.]
THE MOUSE IN THE TRAP.
Zimburg pulled the lamp across the table, and through his glasses carefully scrutinized the features of the violinist. "Very strange," he muttered; "it is not often that I am puzzled. Offhand I should have said that I have never seen this face before, but the more I look at it, the more certain I am that the features are quite familiar to me. At the same time there is some subtle change which baffles me. It may be the eyes, or the nose and the mouth--that it is impossible to say. Anyway, I should be prepared to arrest this man on suspicion, and take the risk of finding out all about him afterwards."
"I suppose any slight alteration makes a difference in the photograph?" Jack asked. "After all said and done, photography is a very weak reed to lie upon. Can't you tell us exactly what is puzzling you?"
Zimburg threw up his hands with a suggestion of despair. A sudden light flashed across Jack's mind. He recollected that Padini, so far as the stage was concerned, appeared with a clean face, but in private life it had been his whim to adopt a moustache strictly on the lines of that worn by the German Emperor. It was apparently an insane thing to do, and savored more of conceit than of anything else, but no doubt the thing had its advantages.
"Do you happen to have such a thing as a paint-box and a brush on the premises?" Jack asked. "If so, I think I shall be in a position to jog Mr. Zimburg's memory."