cells.' Sitting at ease in our own arm-chairs we see the things that these others overlook, and we do not jump

to the conclusion like the worthy Japp."

No; there was little fear of finding Hercule Poirot far

afield.

On arrival in London, I deposited my luggage at an

hotel and drove straight on to the old address. What

poignant memories it brought back to me! I hardly

waited to greet my old landlady, but hurried up the

stairs two at a time and rapped on Poirot's door.

"Enter, then," cried a familiar voice from within. I strode in. Poirot stood facing me. In his arms he

carried a small valise, which he dropped with a crash on beholding me.

"Mon ami, Hastings!" he cried. "Mon ami, Hastings!"

And, rushing forward, he enveloped me in a capacious

embrace. Our conversation was incoherent and inconsequent. Ejaculations, eager questions, incomplete

answers, messages from my wife, explanations as to my

journey, were all jumbled up together.

"I suppose there's some one in my old rooms?" I asked at last, when we had calmed down somewhat.

"I'd love to put up here again with you."

Poirot's face changed with startling suddenness.

"Mon Dieu! but what a chance epouvantable. Regard

around you, my friend."

For the first time I took note of my surroundings.

Against the wall stood a vast ark of a trunk of prehistoric design. Near to it were placed a number of suitcases,

ranged neatly in order of size from large to small.

every day I say to myself, I will write nothing in my letters--but oh! the surprise of the good Hastings when he

beholds me!"

* 'But when are you going?''

Poirot looked at his watch.

"In an hour's time."

"I thought you always said nothing would induce you to make a long sea voyage?"

Poirot closed his eyes and shuddered.

"Speak not of it to me, my friend. My doctor, he

assures me that one dies not of it--and it is for the one time only; you understand, that never--never shall I

return."

He pushed me into a chair.

"Come, I will tell you how it all came about. Do you know who is the richest man in the world? Richer even

than Rockefeller? Abe Ryland."

"The American Soap King?"

"Precisely. One of his secretaries approached me.

There is some very considerable, as you would call it,

hocus-pocus going on in connection with a big company

in Rio. He wished me to investigate matters on the spot. I refused. I told him that if the facts were laid before me, I would give him my expert opinion. But that he

professed himself unable to do. I was to be put in

possession of the facts only on my arrival out there.

Normally, that would have closed the matter. To dictate

to Hercule Poirot is sheer impertinence. But the sum of

THE BIG FOUR 5

fered was so stupendous 1that for the first time inn my life I was tempted by mere money. It was a compettence--a