"Yes, at the hotel."
"And he was tall, you say, and broad-shouldered?"
"Yes."
"Strong looking, in fact. As if" He checked himself at sight of the intent look upon Ruth Glidden's face, and she took the word from his lips.
"As if," she repeated, icily, "he could shoot straight, or strike a man down in the dark." She arose and took the picture. "It is a bad face," she said, with decision.
"It is a disguised face," replied Ferrars. "Nevertheless, I think I shall know it, even without the beard and thick, bushy wig. Let me see?" He took a piece of paper, and a pencil, and placing the photograph before him, began to sketch in the head, working from the nose, mouth, eyes and facial outlines outward, and drawing, instead of the thick, pointed beard, a thin-lipped mouth and smooth chin. Then, when the young ladies had studied this, he copied in the moustache of the photograph.
"It belongs to the face," he observed, as he worked; "and probably grew there."
Late that night, as the detective sat alone in his room with a pile of just completed letters before him, he again drew the photograph from its envelope and studied it with wrinkling brow.
"If you are the man," he said, with slow moving lips
