"And my overcoat—my very excellent summer overcoat—what happened to that?"
From the moment of John's appearance in the room he had been leading up to this question—had his overcoat been searched, had Treves's incriminating letter been discovered? It occurred to him that if John, immediately after his arrest, had established his identity no search of his overcoat was probable. And yet caution was bred in him. His deeply subtle mind prompted him to probe the matter to its depths, and at the same time to convey no suspicion of his anxiety to John.
"Cherriton, your overcoat is quite safe," John said quietly. "I left it on your behalf in the cloak-room at Charing Cross Station." He put his hand into his pocket and drew out the ticket. Cherriton took it from his extended fingers.
"I am particularly obliged to you, Treves," he said. "I have a special fondness for that overcoat? So the Scotland Yard people were for once mistaken."
"Entirely," said John, with truth; "they mistook me for another man."
"Were you made acquainted with the charges against the real person?" probed Cherriton.
"He was wanted for misappropriation of military funds."
Both Manners and Cherriton exhibited increasing interest in the unknown culprit.
"You heard the person's name?"
"His name was John Manton. He was a sergeant at Scarthoe Fort."