keeping it wound tightly round his mouth, I jerked up my revolver where he could see it and understand that resistance was useless. As he ceased to struggle Poirot put his mouth close to his ear and began to whisper rapidly. After a minute the man nodded. Then enjoining silence with a movement of the hand, Poirot led the way out of the flat and down the stairs. Our captive followed, and I brought up the rear with the revolver. When we were out in the street, Poirot turned to me.
"There is a taxi waiting just round the corner. Give me the revolver. We shall not need it now."
"But if this fellow tries to escape?"
Poirot smiled.
"He will not."
I returned in a minute with the waiting taxi. The scarf had been unwound from the stranger's face, and I gave a start of surprise.
"He's not a Jap," I ejaculated in a whisper to Poirot.
"Observation was always your strong point, Hastings! Nothing escapes you. No, the man is not a Jap. He is an Italian."
We got into the taxi, and Poirot gave the driver an address in St. John's Wood. I was
