not the man you want at all. I never robbed a train or cracked a safe or even snatched a purse. I'm just an unromantic sort of a dub with no criminal record at all."
"I just knew it," murmured Perry, relieved.
Mr. Addicks glanced at him and smiled. "Thanks for your good opinion, Hull," he said. "Now, fellows, let's thresh this out. How did you get it into your head I was the train-robber, Shaw?"
Fudge, still mazed and a bit incoherent, did his best to explain. He told the story from the start, acknowledging that for a while he had only half-pretended to believe in the theory of Mr. Addicks' criminality, but owning that the notice in the express office, coupled with blue eyes and a scar on the left fore-arm, had ultimately convinced him. Several times during his recital Mr. Addicks chuckled amusedly, and when Fudge had reached a somewhat lame finish he pulled back the sleeves of his dressing-gown and pajama jacket.
"What sort of a scar was it?" he asked gravely.
"It—it was a white scar about two inches long, sir," stammered Fudge.
Mr. Addicks held out his arm for inspection. "Have a look," he said. Perry and Fudge looked.
Then Fudge turned the arm over. Then he lifted
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