Two bedroom doors faced him on the other side
of the passage. He opened that which was immedi-
ately opposite, and entered a bedroom by no means
austerely tidy. Some sticks and fishing-rods stood
confusedly in one comer, a pile of books in another.
The housemaid's hand ha3 failed to give a look of
order to the jumble of heterogeneous objects left on
the dressing-table and the mantel-shelf — pipes, pen-
knives, pencils, keys, golf-balls, old letters, photo-
graphs, small boxes, tins and bottles. Two fine etch-
ings and some water-color sketches hung on the walls ;
leaning against the end of the wardrobe, unhung,
were a few framed engravings. A row of shoes and
boots was ranged beneath the window. Trent crossed
the room and studied them intently ; then he measured
some of them with his tape, whistling very softly.
This done, he sat on the side of the bed, and his eyes
roamed gloomily about the room.
The photographs on the mantel-shelf attracted him

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presently. He rose and examined one representing
Marlowe and Manderson on horseback. Two others
were views of famous peaks in the Alps. There was
a faded print of three youths — one of them tmmis-
takably his acquaintance of the haggard blue eyes —
clothed in tatterdemalion soldier's gear of the six-
teenth century. Another was a portrait of a majestic
old lady, slightly resembling Marlowe. Trent, me-
chanically taking a cigarette from an open box on the
mantel-shelf, lit it and stared at the photographs.
Next he turned his attention to a flat leathern case
that lay by the cigarette-box.
