by internal evidence. Of course, if they haven’t any connection with it, they’ll soon lead us into chaos. But there’s another thing; we mustn’t expect too much from them. We mustn’t expect a story complete in all its parts—it’s bound to be fragmentary. The wonder is that Thompson succeeded in keeping this many links in the chain. Maybe in his more prosperous days he had a mania for clippings. At best, we mustn’t be disappointed if there are long gaps in the story.”
“Yes,” I agreed again; “that’s evident enough.”
“Very well; we’ll begin with the clippings, then, substituting Tremaine’s name for the one used. The first clipping is merely a marriage notice, announcing that on the 23d of August, 1883, Tremaine married one Thérèse Bertigny, at Dieppe. Let me see; Tremaine was then probably about twenty years of age. No doubt he was born at Dieppe, so that the name given here, Victor Charente, is his real one. You’ll notice that he’s retained his first name-which is a bit of corroborative evidence.”
“Or a mere coincidence,” I supplemented.
“I’ll wire our correspondent at Dieppe to look up this Charente—perhaps he can get a photograph. That would settle the question.”
I nodded. Yes, that would settle it, for Tremaine at forty was probably not greatly different from Tremaine at twenty.
“The second clipping,” proceeded Godfrey, “shows us that our hero soon wandered from the straight and narrow path, and gives us, too, a little light upon his personal history. In the spring following his mar-
