"It was the fact that it was written that proved to me that there were at least two men concerned. One knew the hiding place of the coveted object; and this is how he conveyed the information to his companion," pointing to the step.
"But," protested Pendleton, "why did he not put it into words? Surely it would have been much easier?"
"Not for this particular person. As it happens, he was a mute."
Again Pendleton's eyes opened widely; then recollection came to him and he said:
"It was Locke—the man concerning whom you were making inquiries of the railroad conductor!"
Ashton-Kirk nodded, and replied.
"And it was he who shrieked when the door of the showroom opened. The out-cry of a deaf-mute, if you have ever heard one, has the same squawking, senseless sound as that of a psittaceous bird like the parrot or cockatoo."
"But," said Pendleton, "the fact that the man who scrawled these signs upon the step was a deaf-mute, scarcely justifies the eccentricity of the thing. Why did he not use a pencil, as you have done?"
"I can't say exactly, of course. But did it never happen that you were without a pencil at a time when you needed one rather urgently?"
"This thing has sort of knocked me off my balance, I suppose," said Pendleton, rather bewildered. "Don't expect too much of me, Kirk." He stuffed his hands in his pockets dejectedly and continued: "You now tell me that this man was a mute. Yesterday you said he was small, that he was near-sighted, that he was well dressed and knew something of the modern German dramatists. You also told the conductor that he wore thick glasses and a silk hat. Now, I suppose I'm all kinds of an idiot for not understanding how you know these things about a man you never saw. But I confess it candidly; I don't understand."