"None. Not even a satchel."
"May there not be something in your pockets that would help us; letters, for example?"
"I am sorry to say that I have made a search in that direction, but found nothing. Luckily I did have a pocketbook, though."
"Much money in it?"
"In the neighborhood of five hundred dollars."
Mr. Barnes turned to his table and made a few notes on a pad of paper. While so engaged his visitor took out a fine gold watch, and, after a glance at the face, was about to return it to his pocket, when Mr. Barnes wheeled around in his chair, and said:
"That is a handsome watch you have there. Of a curious pattern, too. I am rather interested in old watches."
The stranger seemed confused for an instant, and quickly put up his watch, saying:
"There is nothing remarkable about it. Merely an old family relic. I value it more for that than anything else. But about my case, Mr. Barnes; how long do you think it will take to restore my identity to me? It is rather awkward to go about under a false name."
"I should think so," said the detective. "I will do my best for you, but you have given me absolutely no clue to work upon, so that it is impossible to say what my success will be. Still I think forty-eight hours should suffice. At least in that time I ought to make some discoveries for you. Suppose you call again on the day after to-morrow, at noon precisely. Will that suit you?"