VI

He had sent the hat to a Mr. Drebber, residing at Charpentier’s Boarding Establishment, Torquay Terrace. Thus I got at his address.”

“Smart⁠—very smart!” murmured Sherlock Holmes.

“I next called upon Madame Charpentier,” continued the detective. “I found her very pale and distressed. Her daughter was in the room, too⁠—an uncommonly fine girl she is, too; she was looking red about the eyes and her lips trembled as I spoke to her. That didn’t escape my notice. I began to smell a rat. You know the feeling, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, when you come upon the right scent⁠—a kind of thrill in your nerves. ‘Have you heard of the mysterious death of your late boarder Mr. Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleveland?’ I asked.

“The mother nodded. She didn’t seem able to get out a word. The daughter burst into tears. I felt more than ever that these people knew something of the matter.

“ ‘At what o’clock did Mr. Drebber leave your house for the train?’ I asked.

“ ‘At eight o’clock,’ she said, gulping in her throat to keep down her agitation. ‘His secretary, Mr. Stangerson, said that there were two trains⁠—one at 9:15 and one at 11. He was to catch the first.’

“ ‘And was that the last which you saw of him?’

“A terrible change came over the woman’s face as I asked the question. Her features turned perfectly livid. It was some seconds before she could get out the single word ‘Yes’⁠—and when it did come it was in a husky unnatural tone.

“There was silence for a moment, and then the daughter spoke in a calm clear voice.