“And you were?” I asked, with a slightly malicious glance at my companion.

 

“A sergeant, sir, Royal Marine Light Infantry, sir. No answer? Right, sir.”

 

He clicked his heels together, raised his hand in a salute, and was gone.

 

CHAPTER III.

 

THE LAURISTON GARDENS MYSTERY

 

I confess that I was considerably startled by this fresh proof of the practical

nature of my companion’s theories. My respect for his powers of analysis

increased wondrously. There still remained some lurking suspicion in my mind,

however, that the whole thing was a pre-arranged episode, intended to dazzle me,

though what earthly object he could have in taking me in was past my

comprehension. When I looked at him he had finished reading the note, and his

eyes had assumed the vacant, lack-lustre expression which showed mental

abstraction.

 

“How in the world did you deduce that?” I asked.

 

“Deduce what?” said he, petulantly.

 

“Why, that he was a retired sergeant of Marines.”