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 Dr. Thorndyke Investigates
THORNDYKE stood looking up and down the platform with anxiety that increased as the time drew near for the departure of the train.
"This is very unfortunate," he said, reluctantly stepping into an empty smoking compartment as the guard executed a flourish with his green flag. "I am afraid we have missed our friend." He closed the door, and, as the train began to move, thrust his head out of the window.
"Now I wonder if that will be he," he continued. "If so, he has caught the train by the skin of his teeth, and is now in one of the rear compartments."
The subject of Thorndyke's speculations was Mr. Edward Stopford, of the firm of Stopford and Myers, of Portugal Street, solicitors, and his connection with us at present arose out of a telegram that had reached our chambers on the preceding evening...
 

 Dr. Thorndyke Intervenes
THE attendant at the cloak room at Fenchurch Street Station glanced at the ticket which had just been handed to him by a tall, hawk-faced and rather anxious-looking man, and ran an inquiring eye over the assemblage of trunks, bags and other objects that crowded the floor of the room.
"Wooden, iron-bound case, you said?" he remarked.
"Yes. Name of Dobson on the label. That looks like the one," he added, craning over the barrier and watching eagerly as the attendant threaded his way among the litter of packages.
"Dobson it is," the man confirmed, stooping over the case, and, with an obviously puzzled expression, comparing the ticket that had been pasted on it with the counterfoil which he held in his hand. "Rum affair, though," he added. "It seems to be your case but it has got the wrong number on it. Will you come in and have a look at it and see that it is all right?"...