Thorndyke produced his pocket lens and a sheet of note-paper; and holding the latter while Miller cautiously dropped the hair on it, he inspected the find through his lens.
“Yes,” he said, “it is a moustache hair, about half an inch long, decidedly thick, cleanly cut and of a lightish red-brown colour. Somehow it seems to fit the other characters. A close-cropped, bristly, sandy moustache appears to go appropriately with the stature and weight of the man and that massive pipe. There is a tendency for racial characters to go together, and the blond races run to height and weight. Well, we have a fairly complete picture of the man, unless we have made some erroneous inferences, and we seem to have finished our inspection. Have you been through the stuff in the letter-box?”
“Monk went through it, but we may as well have a look at it to make sure that he hasn’t missed anything. I’ll hand the things out if you will put them on the table and check them.”
As Miller took out the letters in handfuls Thorndyke received them from him and laid them out on the table. Then he and Miller examined the collection systematically.
“You see, Doctor,” said the latter, “they are all circulars; not a private letter among them excepting the two notes from the Treasurer about the rent. And they are quite a miscellaneous lot. None of these people knew anything about Bromeswell, apparently, they just copied the address out of the directory. Here’s one from a money-lender. Bromeswell could have given him a tip or two. The earliest post-mark is the eleventh of June, so we may take it that he wasn’t here after the tenth, or the morning of the eleventh.”
“There is a slight suggestion that he left at night,” said Thorndyke, as he made a note of the date. “The place where you found the pipe would be in deep shadow by gaslight, but not by daylight. Certainly the blind was up, but he would probably have drawn it up after he turned the gas out, as its being down during the day might attract attention.”
“Yes,” said Miller, “you are probably right about the time; and that reminds me that Monk found a small piece of paper under the bench—I’ve got it in my pocket—which seems to bear out your suggestion.” He took from his pocket a bulky letter-case, from an inner recess of which he extracted a little scrap of Whatman paper.
“Here it is,” he said, handing it to Thorndyke. “He seems to have just jotted down the times of two trains; and, as you say, they were probably night trains.”
Thorndyke looked with deep attention at the fragment, on which was written, hastily but legibly in very black ink, “8:15 and 11:1. P,” and remarked:
“Quite a valuable find in its way. The writing is very characteristic, and so is the ink. Probably it would be more so when seen through the microscope. Magnification brings out shades of colour that are invisible to the naked eye.”