"Yes," and he named it.
It was nearly midnight when The Thinking Machine and Hatch reached Boston. The reporter was dismissed with a curt:
"Come up at noon to-morrow."
Hatch went his way. Next day at noon promptly he was waiting in the reception room of The Thinking Machine's home. The scientist was out--down in Winter Street, Martha explained--and Hatch waited impatiently for his return. He came in finally.
"Well?" inquired the reporter.
"Impossible to say anything until day after to-morrow," said The Thinking Machine.
"And then?" asked Hatch.
"The solution," replied the scientist positively. "Now I'm waiting for some one."
"Miss Dow?"
"Meanwhile you might see Reid and find out in some way if he ever happened to make a gift of any little thing, a thing that a woman would wear on the outside of her coat, for instance, to Miss Dow."