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“Then when they came in here for coffee, they sat in no prearranged order?”

“Oh, no, sir. They just sat anywhere their fancy dictated.”

“Is there chance you happen to remember who sat in which place?”

Jessop shook his head. “I’m sorry, Constable. It was a somewhat disturbing evening. I was a bit—unnerved, I fear.”

Charlie laid his hand on the chair at the right of the one the hostess would no doubt have occupied. “You can not, then, tell me who it was reclined here?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Chan. One of the gentlemen, I fancy. But—I—I really don’t know.”

Charlie studied a moment. “Thank you so much. The telephone is in the hall closet, I believe?”

“Yes, sir. I will show you——”

“No need to trouble,” Chan told him. “I will find it.”

He went out to the hall and shutting himself in the hot cubby-hole under the stairs, made numerous calls. Finally he rang up his Chief.

“Inspector Chan speaking,” he said. “May I humbly suggest that you bring one other good man with you, and come immediately to house of Shelah Fane?”

“Something doing, Charlie?” asked the Chief.

Chan pulled the door shut as far as it would go. Little beads of perspiration began to pop out on his forehead.

“Pin is about to lead us to success,” he replied in a low voice. “On floor of living-room repose plenty fresh scratches. What is more, during time of investi-