in, and he at once beckoned them into the room and closed the door.
"We've made two or three discoveries," he said, glancing at Ayscough. "To start with, there were footprints of a rather unusual sort round these bushes where the man was lying—so I've had it carefully fenced in around there—we'll have a better look at 'em, in daylight. Very small prints, you understand—more like a woman's than a man's."
Ayscough's sharp eyes turned to the hearth—there were two or three pairs of slippers lying near the fender and he pointed to them.
"These Chinamen have very small feet, I believe," he said. "The footprints are probably theirs. Well—what else?"
"This," answered the man in charge, producing a small parcel from the side-pocket of his coat, and proceeding to divest it of a temporary wrapping. "Perhaps Mr. Rubinstein will recognize it. We found it thrown away in a fire-grate in one of the bedrooms upstairs—you see, it's half burnt."
He produced a small, stoutly-made cardboard box, some three inches square, the outer surface of which was covered with a thick, glossy-surfaced dark-green paper, on which certain words were deeply impressed in gilt letters. The box was considerably charred and only fragments of the lettering on the lid remained intact—but it was not difficult to make out what the full wording had been.
. . . . enius,
. . .nd jeweller,
. . ed Street
