"Zagazig, my dear Petrie, is a very unsavory Arab town in Lower Egypt, as you know!"
He returned the paper to the pocket of his over-coat, and, noting my bewildered glance, burst into one of his sudden laughs.
"You think I am talking nonsense," he said; "but, as a matter of fact, that message in the paper has been puzzling me since it appeared— yesterday morning—and at last I think I see the light."
He pulled out his pipe and began rapidly to load it.
"I have been growing careless of late, Petrie," he continued; and no hint of merriment remained in his voice. His gaunt face was drawn grimly, and his eyes glittered like steel. "In future I must avoid going out alone at night as much as possible."
Inspector Weymouth was staring at Smith in a puzzled way; and certainly
I was every whit as mystified as he.
"I am disposed to believe," said my friend, in his rapid, incisive way, "that the dacoit met his end at the hands of a tall man, possibly dark and almost certainly clean-shaven. If this missing personage wears, on chilly nights, a long tweed traveling coat and affects soft gray hats of the Stetson pattern, I shall not be surprised."
Weymouth stared at me in frank bewilderment.
"By the way, Inspector," added Smith, a sudden gleam of inspiration entering his keen eyes—"did I not see that the s.s.Andaman arrived recently?"
"The Oriental Navigation Company's boat?" inquired Weymouth in a hopeless tone. "Yes. She docked yesterday evening."