"Now here was an interesting circumstance. I had already noted something familiar in the man's face. His question explained it. Cousin Bill was clearly Number Five in the Anthropological Series. In fact, the resemblance was quite remarkable. The present example, like the late Bill, was an undergrown creature, and had the same curiously-twisted nose, the same asymmetrical face and similar ears—large, flat ears that stood out from his head like the handles of an amphora, that had strongly marked Darwinian tubercles, unformed helices and undeveloped lobules. Lombroso would have loved him. He would have made a delightful photograph for purposes of illustration, and—it suddenly occurred to me—he would make a most interesting companion preparation to Number Five.
"'Your Cousin Bill,' I said, with this new idea in my mind. 'Was he the son of your mother's sister?' (A few details as to heredity add materially to the value and instructiveness of a specimen.)
"'And supposin' he was. What about it? I want to know what you've been and done with 'im.'
"'What makes you think I have done anything with him?' I asked.
"'Why, I see 'im go into your 'ouse and I never see 'im come out.'
"'But, my good man,' I protested, 'that is exceedingly bad logic. If you saw him go in, there is a fair presumption that he went in—'
"'I see 'im with my own eyes,' my friend interrupted, as though there were other alternative means of vision.
"'But,' I continued, 'the fact that you did not see him come out establishes no presumption that he did not come out. He may have come out unobserved.'
"'No, he didn't. He never come out. I see 'im go in—'
"'So you have mentioned. May I ask what his business was?'