"As I have frequently told you, Hastings, you have a nature so beautiful and so honest that unless you are

yourself deceived, it is impossible for you to deceive

THE BIG FOUR 85

others. Good, then, you are spotted from the first, and

they do what I had counted on their doing--a mathematical certainty to any one who uses his gray cells properly--use you as a decoy. They set the girl on--By

the way, mon ami, as an interesting fact psychologically, has she got red hair?"

"If you mean Miss Martin," I said coldly. "Her hair is a delicate shade of auburn, but--"

"They are epatant--these people? They have even

studied your psychology. Oh! yes, my friend. Miss Martin was in the plot--very much so. She repeats the letter

to you, together with her tale of Mr. Ryland's wrath,

you write it down, you puzzle your brains--the cipher

is nicely arranged, difficult, but not too difficult--you solve it, and you send for me."

"But what they do not know is that I am waiting for just this very thing to happen. I go post haste to Japp

and arrange things. And so, as you see, all is triumph!" I was not particularly pleased with Poirot, and I told

him so. We went back to London on a milk train in the

early hours of the morning, and a most uncomfortable

journey it was.

I was just out of my bath and indulging in pleasurable

thoughts of breakfast when I heard Japp's voice in the

sitting-room. I threw on a bathrobe and hurried in.

"A pretty mare's nest you've got us into this time," Japp was saying. "It's too bad of you, M. Poirot. First time I've ever known you take a toss."

Poirot's face was a study. Japp went on.

"There were we, taking all this Black Hand stuff

seriously--and all the time it was the footman."

"The footman?" I gasped.

"Yes, James, or whatever his name is. Seems he laid 'em a wager in the servants' hall that he could get taken

for the old man by his nibs--that's you. Captain

86 Agatha Christie

Hastings--and would hand him out a lot of spy stuff

about a Big Four gang."

"Impossible! "I cried.

"Don't you believe it. I marched our gentleman

straight to Hatton Chase, and there was the real Ryland

in bed and asleep, and the butler and the cook and God

knows how many of them to swear to the wager. Just a

silly hoax--that's all it was--and the valet is with him."

"So that was why he kept in the shadow," murmured Poirot.

After Japp had gone we looked at each other.

"We know, Hastings," said Poirot at last. "Number Two of the Big Four is Abe Ryland. The masquerading

on the part of the footman was to ensure a way of retreat in case of emergencies. And the footman--"

"Yes," I breathed.

"Number Four," said Poirot gravely.

;«-<«--»?-»><r,

^

^

3

''The Tellow Jasmine ^Mystery

It was all very well for Poirot to say that we were acquiring information all the time and gaining an insight into