I started to my feet as a tall, bearded man swung open the door and hurled himself
impetuously into the room. He wore a silk hat, which fitted him very ill, and a black frock
coat which did not fit him at all.
"It's all right, Petrie!" cried the apparition; "I've leased the Gables!"
It was Nayland Smith! I stared at him in amazement
"The first time I have employed a disguise," continued my friend rapidly, "since the
memorable episode of the false pigtail." He threw a small brown leather grip upon the
floor. "In case you should care to visit the house, Petrie, I have brought these things. My
tenancy commences to-night!"
Two days had elapsed, and I had entirely forgotten the strange story of the Gables which
Inspector Weymouth had related to us; evidently it was otherwise with my friend, and
utterly at a loss for an explanation of his singular behavior, I stooped mechanically and
opened the grip. It contained an odd assortment of garments, and amongst other things
several gray wigs and a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles.
Kneeling there with this strange litter about me, I looked up amazedly. Nayland Smith,
with the unsuitable silk hat set right upon the back of his head, was pacing the room
excitedly, his fuming pipe protruding from the tangle of factitious beard.
"You see, Petrie," he began again, rapidly, "I did not entirely trust the agent. I've leased
the house in the name of Professor Maxton . . ."
"But, Smith," I cried, "what possible reason can there be for disguise?"
"There's every reason," he snapped.
"Why should you interest yourself in the Gables?"
"Does no explanation occur to you?"
"None whatever; to me the whole thing smacks of stark lunacy."
"I've never stuck at anything, Smith," I replied, "however undignified, when it has
seemed that my presence could be of the slightest use."
As I rose to my feet, Smith stepped in front of me, and the steely gray eyes shone out
strangely from the altered face. He clapped his hands upon my shoulders.
