CHAPTER XIV
THE FOREIGNER OF WESTBOURNE GROVE
AS we stood there dumfounded at the disappearance of the body, the Highlander's quick glance caught something, and stooping he picked it up and examined the little object by the aid of his lantern.
Within his palm I saw lying a tiny little gold cross, about an inch long, enamelled in red, while in the centre was a circular miniature of a kneeling saint, an elegant and beautifully executed little trinket which might have adorned a lady's bracelet.
"This is a pretty little thing!" remarked the detective. "It may possibly lead us to something. But, Mr. Gregg," he added, turning to me, "are you quite certain you left the body here?"
"Certain?" I echoed. "Why, look at the hole I made. You don't think I have any interest in leading you here on a fool's errand, do you?"
"Not at all," he said apologetically. "Only the whole affair seems so very inconceivable — I mean that the men, having once got rid of the evidence of their crime, would hardly return to the spot and re-obtain possession of it."
"Unless they watched me exhume it, and feared
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