alf a dozen years back. There were several entries on the police books, and of these he made a record.
At 1 o'clock that afternoon he was again in Cambridge working with the police and half a dozen reporters in an effort to get some light on the question of the girl's identity. Later he went to the real estate office of Henry Holmes & Co. seeking further light there. It was not forthcoming.
"Did this man, Wilkes, sign anything?" he asked; "a lease, or anything of that sort? A sample of his handwriting might be useful now."
"No," was the reply. "We did not consider a lease necessary."
Meanwhile the police had apparently exhausted every means of finding out who and what Charles Wilkes was. It was clear from the beginning, to them at least, that the name Wilkes was a fictitious one. There was no reason to suppose that if Wilkes rented the house with the deliberate intention of murder that he would give his real name. By the wildest stretch of the imagination they could find no mot