"_Parfaitement_! as they say in Paris, where you and I met once, though
'twas in a crowd. But _I_ didn't steal the blessed pearl. I believe it
was that blatant patriot, Domengo Suarez."
"You've got _some_ brains, then. Why not use them? Don't you see what a
fix we three would have found ourselves in had you shot the man?"
"But, consider, Carlo mio! A spook with whiskers! What court would find
me guilty? Let me produce the authentic record of Owd Ben, and I have no
doubt but that the Lord Chief Justice himself would have potted his
representative. He'd be bound to confess it."
Furneaux was cooling down.
"You've shaken my confidence," he said. "Unless I have your promise that
you will never do such a thing again while in my company, I shall ban you
from this inquiry with bell, book, and candle."
"Very well. It's a bargain. Now let us ponder Exhibit A."
He stretched a long arm over the table, and took the hat.
"Put it on!" commanded the detective.
Hart did so, and scowled frightfully. Furneaux bent forward and squinted.
"Notice the line of those bullet-holes," he said to Grant.
"Any man wearing that hat must have had his scalp ploughed up," said
Grant instantly.
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