in the chair, the struggle that reddened and pulled his face, they thought for a moment that Saulomon would act. Then, soothingly, the struggle ceased. Saulomon inclined his head.
“I did it, monsieur,” he said.
“Let us reconstruct, then. You knew Mercier was coming over, but you did not know on what day to expect him. At Scotland Yard we did not arrest him; we deliberately forced him over on that boat, letting him think he was distancing us, because we wished to use him as stalking horse for you. Mercier and you had been working cleverly. Consider! A train-guard, who there in that dimly lighted place could pass for a porter, could take a man’s luggage and abstract smuggled stones from them before the luggage went to the customs. A clever plot. But this time Mercier did not play the game. He wanted to get away from you with the money he had gained in England. The false beard? Exactly! He put it on after he had left the passport inspector; he did not turn on the full lights in the compartment, hoping thus to deceive you and slip past. Well, you could play such a game yourself, eh?
“Now! Mercier is already in the train, and you know who this bearded gentleman is. He has bolted his door so that those who got into the train would not enter and see there a man wearing a beard—he did not wear a beard on the boat. You could not enter by the door. But outside; the train is waiting there by its platform, and, as usual, it is a high platform above the tracks, so that one passing by the train finds the train windows on a level with his breast. Inside one compartment, near the window which is half-way down, sits Mercier, opening the wallet which contains his winnings. You see him. You are a tall man—your hands through the open window in an instant, there in the darkness of the platform. Mercier sees only two hands which flash in
