CHAPTER XXIII.
MARGARET'S SECRET The waiter managed to remove the most obvious traces of Brett's escapade in the gutter, and incidentally cleaned the stick.
It was a light, tough ashplant, with a silver band around the handle.

The barrister held it under a gas jet and examined it closely.

Nothing escaped him.

After scrutinising the band for some time, he looked at the ferrule, and roughly estimated that the owner had used it two or three years.
Finally, when quite satisfied, he handed it to Winter.
"Do you recognise those scratches ?" he said, with a smile, pointing out a rough design bitten into the silver by the application of aqua regia and beeswax.
The detective at once uttered an exclamation of supreme astonishment.
"The very thing!" he cried.

"The same Japanese motto as that on the Ko-Katana!" Hume now drew near.
"So," he growled savagely, "the hand that struck down Alan was the same that sought my life an hour ago!" "And your cousin's this morning," said Brett "The cowardly brute! If he has a grudge against my family, why doesn't he come out into the open?
He need not have feared detection, even a week ago.