"It's fate or some other darn mysterious thing; but here are the clothes—the very clothes the old man wore the day he was killed."
The clothes were taken from the case and thoroughly examined, but the vigilant detective made a discovery which led him to say:
"They are not blood-stained."
"No."
"Is there a mistake?"
"No, sir, no mistake. See, there are the big boots, the broad-brimmed slouch hat; I'll swear to the clothes."
"But how is it they are not blood-stained?"
"Oh, that is easily explained. The old man struck on his head; it was concussion of the brain that killed him. The exterior wound was only a scalp wound. There was no blood on his clothes, as the wound was on the head only. No, sir, there is no mistake; those are the clothes the old man wore on the day he was killed, October 19, 18—."
It was a ghastly exhibition under all the circumstances, and the explanation concerning the blood-stains was very satisfactory and reasonable, and besides, the clothes answered the description of both of the old men who had seen their living owner over forty years previously on the very day he died, for our hero concluded that the man had been killed on the very day he had deposited the great fortune with the banker. It was a strange and remarkable find after so many years, and it made the detective very thoughtful.
"Can I examine the clothes?" he asked.