"Saw him?" exclaimed Miss Molloy.
"Sus-saw him?" echoed her father, scarcely able to speak in his delight.
"Yes. Do you by any chance know a man named Twist?"
"Twist?" said Mr. Molloy, still speaking with difficulty. He wrinkled his forehead. "Twist? Do I know a man named Twist, honey?"
"The name seems kind of familiar," admitted Miss Molloy.
"He runs a place called Healthward Ho about twenty miles from here. My uncle stayed there for a couple of weeks. It's a place where people go to get into condition—a sort of health farm, I suppose you would call it."
"Of course, yes. I have heard Mr. Carmody speak of his friend Twist. But...."
"Apparently he called here the other day—to see my uncle, I suppose—and this servant I'm speaking about saw him and is convinced that he was the burglar."
"Improbable, surely?" Mr. Molloy seemed still to be having a little trouble with his breath. "Surely not very probable. This man Twist, from what you tell me, is a personal friend of your uncle. Why, therefore.... Besides, if he owns a prosperous business...."
John was not to be put off the trail by mere superficial argument. Doctor Watson may be slow at starting, but, once started, he is a bloodhound for tenacity.