He nodded.
"Signalling night before last and a submarine seen yesterday that we suspect of having been here."
"Under my nose!" I groaned. "A fat lot of good I am!"
"My dear chap, you can't possibly watch the whole coast all night and every night. This time the signals were seen from the sea as a matter of fact. But you can note the night, and also the hour, which was 2:45 a.m., G.M.T., as near as I can make out from the report. By the way, you had better set your watch by mine now while we remember. Possibly you may be able to discover who was out at that hour night before last."
"I may, but it's a thousand to one against it. Give me a thousand such chances, and I'll get him! That's just about how it seems to work out so far."
"Haven't you got any new ideas?"
"Without new evidence, what new ideas can one get? And I only got my first piece of evidence this morning. In fact, I haven't had time to think it over yet."
"Let's hear it," said my cousin keenly.
"I have been on the track of that old boy with spectacles, as being the only definite thing to look for so far. I did what Bolton did—went to see every old man in the place, and this morning I polished off the last of them and came to the same conclusion as he did. There is no such old gentleman on the island. But there was one, for a short time one morning; and he was a fake like Thomas Sylvester Hobhouse; and this morning I've heard of some one else who saw him!"
"By Gad!" exclaimed my cousin. "That sounds like the beginning of business."