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diff --git a/old/59478-0.txt b/old/59478-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1a7a6a6..0000000 --- a/old/59478-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8547 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of Dr. Thorndyke, by R. Austin Freeman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Adventures of Dr. Thorndyke - (The Singing Bone) - -Author: R. Austin Freeman - -Release Date: May 11, 2019 [EBook #59478] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF DR. THORNDYKE *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Lins - - - - - - - GREAT STORIES OF A GREAT DETECTIVE - - - The Adventures of - - DR. THORNDYKE - - (The Singing Bone) - - - - By R. AUSTIN FREEMAN - - - - POPULAR LIBRARY • NEW YORK - - - - - POPULAR LIBRARY EDITION - - - - COMPLETE AND - - UNABRIDGED - - - - Originally published under the title of - - THE SINGING BONE - - - - COPYRIGHT MCMXXIII - - By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC. - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - By arrangement with Dodd, Mead and Company, Inc. - - - - -PREFACE - - -The peculiar construction of the first four stories in the present -collection will probably strike both reader and critic and seem to -call for some explanation, which I accordingly proceed to supply. - -In the conventional “detective story” the interest is made to focus -on the question, “Who did it?” The identity of the criminal is a -secret that is jealously guarded up to the very end of the book, and -its disclosure forms the final climax. - -This I have always regarded as somewhat of a mistake. In real life, -the identity of the criminal is a question of supreme importance for -practical reasons; but in fiction, where no such reasons exist, I -conceive the interest of the reader to be engaged chiefly by the -demonstration of unexpected consequences of simple actions, of -unsuspected causal connections, and by the evolution of an ordered -train of evidence from a mass of facts apparently incoherent and -unrelated. The reader’s curiosity is concerned not so much with the -question “Who did it?” as with the question “How was the discovery -achieved?” That is to say, the ingenious reader is interested more in -the intermediate action than in the ultimate result. - -The offer by a popular author of a prize to the reader who should -identify the criminal in a certain “detective story,” exhibiting as -it did the opposite view, suggested to me an interesting question. - -Would it be possible to write a detective story in which from the -outset the reader was taken entirely into the author’s confidence, -was made an actual witness of the crime and furnished with every fact -that could possibly be used in its detection? Would there be any -story left when the reader had all the facts? I believed that there -would; and as an experiment to test the justice of my belief, I wrote -“The Case of Oscar Brodski.” Here the usual conditions are reversed; -the reader knows everything, the detective knows nothing, and the -interest focuses on the unexpected significance of trivial -circumstances. - -By excellent judges on both sides of the Atlantic--including the -editor of _Pearson’s Magazine_--this story was so far approved of -that I was invited to produce others of the same type. - -Three more were written and are here included together with one of -the more orthodox character, so that the reader can judge of the -respective merits of the two methods of narration. - -Nautical readers will observe that I have taken the liberty (for -obvious reasons connected with the law of libel) of planting a -screw-pile lighthouse on the Girdler Sand in place of the -light-vessel. I mention the matter to forestall criticism and save -readers the trouble of writing to point out the error. - - R. A. F. - -Gravesend - - - - -CONTENTS - - - I THE CASE OF OSCAR BRODSKI - - I The Mechanism of Crime - - II The Mechanism of Detection - - - II A CASE OF PREMEDITATION - - I The Elimination of Mr. Pratt - - II Rival Sleuth-Hounds - - - III THE ECHO OF A MUTINY - - I Death on the Girdler - - II “The Singing Bone” - - - IV A WASTREL’S ROMANCE - - I The Spinsters’ Guest - - II Munera Pulveris - - - V THE OLD LAG - - I The Changed Immutable - - II The Ship of the Desert - - - - -THE CASE OF OSCAR BRODSKI - - -PART I - -THE MECHANISM OF CRIME - -A surprising amount of nonsense has been talked about conscience. On -the one hand remorse (or the “again-bite,” as certain scholars of -ultra-Teutonic leanings would prefer to call it); on the other hand -“an easy conscience”: these have been accepted as the determining -factors of happiness or the reverse. - -Of course there is an element of truth in the “easy conscience” view, -but it begs the whole question. A particularly hardy conscience may -be quite easy under the most unfavourable conditions--conditions in -which the more feeble conscience might be severely afflicted with the -“again-bite.” And, then, it seems to be the fact that some fortunate -persons have no conscience at all; a negative gift that raises them -above the mental vicissitudes of the common herd of humanity. - -Now, Silas Hickler was a case in point. No one, looking into his -cheerful, round face, beaming with benevolence and wreathed in -perpetual smiles, would have imagined him to be a criminal. Least of -all, his worthy, high-church house keeper, who was a witness to his -unvarying amiability, who constantly heard him carolling -light-heartedly about the house and noted his appreciative zest at -meal-times. - -Yet it is a fact that Silas earned his modest, though comfortable, -income by the gentle art of burglary. A precarious trade and risky -withal, yet not so very hazardous if pursued with judgment and -moderation. And Silas was eminently a man of judgment. He worked -invariably alone. He kept his own counsel. No confederate had he to -turn King’s Evidence at a pinch; no one he knew would bounce off in a -fit of temper to Scotland Yard. Nor was he greedy and thriftless, as -most criminals are. His “scoops” were few and far between, carefully -planned, secretly executed, and the proceeds judiciously invested in -“weekly property.” - -In early life Silas had been connected with the diamond industry, and -he still did a little rather irregular dealing. In the trade he was -suspected of transactions with I.D.B.’s, and one or two indiscreet -dealers had gone so far as to whisper the ominous word “fence.” But -Silas Smiled a benevolent smile and went his way. He knew what he -knew, and his clients in Amsterdam were not inquisitive. - -Such was Silas Hickler. As he strolled round his garden in the dusk -of an October evening, he seemed the very type of modest, -middle-class prosperity. He was dressed in the travelling suit that -he wore on his little continental trips; his bag was packed and stood -in readiness on the sitting room sofa. A parcel of diamonds -(purchased honestly, though without impertinent questions, at -Southampton) was in the inside pocket of his waistcoat, and another -more valuable parcel was stowed in a cavity in the heel of his right -boot. In an hour and a half it would be time for him to set out to -catch the boat train at the junction; meanwhile there was nothing to -do but to stroll round the fading garden and consider how he should -invest the proceeds of the impending deal. His housekeeper had gone -over to Welham for the week’s shopping, and would probably not be -back until eleven o’clock. He was alone in the premises and just a -trifle dull. - -He was about to turn into the house when his ear caught the sound of -footsteps on the unmade road that passed the end of the garden. He -paused and listened. There was no other dwelling near, and the road -led nowhere, fading away into the waste land beyond the house. Could -this be a visitor? It seemed unlikely, for visitors were few at Silas -Hickler’s house. Meanwhile the footsteps continued to approach, -ringing out with increasing loudness on the hard, stony path. - -Silas strolled down to the gate, and, leaning on it, looked out with -some curiosity. Presently a glow of light showed him the face of a -man, apparently lighting his pipe; then a dim figure detached itself -from the enveloping gloom, advanced towards him and halted opposite -the garden. The stranger removed a cigarette from his mouth and, -blowing out a cloud of smoke, asked-- - -“Can you tell me if this road will take me to Badsham Junction?” - -“No,” replied Hickler, “but there is a footpath farther on that leads -to the station.” - -“Footpath!” growled the stranger. “I’ve had enough of footpaths. I -came down from town to Catley intending to walk across to the -junction. I started along the road, and then some fool directed me to -a short cut, with the result that I have been blundering about in the -dark for the last half-hour. My sight isn’t very good, you know,” he -added. - -“What train do you want to catch?” asked Hickler. - -“Seven fifty-eight,” was the reply. - -“I am going to catch that train myself,” said Silas, “but I shan’t be -starting for another hour. The station is only three-quarters of a -mile from here. If you like to come in and take a rest, we can walk -down together and then you’ll be sure of not missing your way.” - -“It’s very good of you,” said the stranger, peering, with spectacled -eyes, at the dark house, “but--I think----” - -“Might as well wait here as at the station,” said Silas in his genial -way, holding the gate open, and the stranger, after a momentary -hesitation, entered and, flinging away his cigarette, followed him to -the door of the cottage. - -The sitting-room was in darkness, save for the dull glow of the -expiring fire, but, entering before his guest, Silas applied a match -to the lamp that hung from the ceiling. As the flame leaped up, -flooding the little interior with light, the two men regarded one -another with mutual curiosity. - -“Brodski, by Jingo!” was Hickler’s silent commentary, as he looked at -his guest. “Doesn’t know me, evidently--wouldn’t, of course, after -all these years and with his bad eyesight. Take a seat, sir,” he -added aloud. “Will you join me in a little refreshment to while away -the time?” - -Brodski murmured an indistinct acceptance, and, as his host turned to -open a cupboard, he deposited his hat (a hard, grey felt) on a chair -in a corner, placed his bag on the edge of the table, resting his -umbrella against it, and sat down in a small arm-chair. - -“Have a biscuit?” said Hickler, as he placed a whisky-bottle on the -table together with a couple of his best star-pattern tumblers and a -siphon. - -“Thanks, I think I will,” said Brodski. “The railway journey and all -this confounded tramping about, you know----” - -“Yes,” agreed Silas. “Doesn’t do to start with an empty stomach. Hope -you don’t mind oat-cakes; I see they’re the only biscuits I have.” - -Brodski hastened to assure him that oat-cakes were his special and -peculiar fancy; and in confirmation, having mixed himself a stiff -jorum, he fell to upon the biscuits with evident gusto. - -Brodski was a deliberate feeder, and at present appeared to be -somewhat sharp set. His measured munching being unfavourable to -conversation, most of the talking fell to Silas; and, for once, that -genial transgressor found the task embarrassing. The natural thing -would have been to discuss his guest’s destination and perhaps the -object of his journey; but this was precisely what Hickler avoided -doing. For he knew both, and instinct told him to keep his knowledge -to himself. - -Brodski was a diamond merchant of considerable reputation, and in a -large way of business. He bought stones principally in the rough, and -of these he was a most excellent judge. His fancy was for stones of -somewhat unusual size and value, and it was well known to be his -custom, when he had accumulated a sufficient stock, to carry them -himself to Amsterdam and supervise the cutting of the rough stones. -Of this Hickler was aware, and he had no doubt that Brodski was now -starting on one of his periodical excursions; that somewhere in the -recesses of his rather shabby clothing was concealed a paper packet -possibly worth several thousand pounds. - -Brodski sat by the table munching monotonously and talking little. -Hickler sat opposite him, talking nervously and rather wildly at -times, and watching his guest with a growing fascination. Precious -stones, and especially diamonds, were Hickler’s specialty. “Hard -stuff”--silver plate--he avoided entirely; gold, excepting in the -form of specie, he seldom touched; but stones, of which he could -carry off a whole consignment in the heel of his boot and dispose of -with absolute safety, formed the staple of his industry. And here was -a man sitting opposite him with a parcel in his pocket containing the -equivalent of a dozen of his most successful “scoops”; stones worth -perhaps---- Here he pulled himself up short and began to talk -rapidly, though without much coherence. For, even as he talked, other -words, formed subconsciously, seemed to insinuate themselves into the -interstices of the sentences, and to carry on a parallel train of -thought. - -“Gets chilly in the evenings now, doesn’t it?” said Hickler. - -“It does indeed,” Brodski agreed, and then resumed his slow munching, -breathing audibly through his nose. - -“Five thousand at least,” the subconscious train of thought resumed; -“probably six or seven, perhaps ten.” Silas fidgeted in his chair and -endeavoured to concentrate his ideas on some topic of interest. He -was growing disagreeably conscious of a new and unfamiliar state of -mind. - -“Do you take any interest in gardening?” he asked. Next to diamonds -and weekly “property,” his besetting weakness was fuchsias. - -Brodski chuckled sourly. “Hatton Garden is the nearest approach----” -He broke off suddenly, and then added, “I am a Londoner, you know.” - -The abrupt break in the sentence was not unnoticed by Silas, nor had -he any difficulty in interpreting it. A man who carries untold wealth -upon his person must needs be wary in his speech. - -“Yes,” he answered absently, “it’s hardly a Londoner’s hobby.” And -then, half consciously, he began a rapid calculation. Put it at five -thousand pounds. What would that represent in weekly property? His -last set of houses had cost two hundred and fifty pounds apiece, and -he had let them at ten shillings and sixpence a week. At that rate, -five thousand pounds represented twenty houses at ten and sixpence a -week--say ten pounds a week--one pound eight shillings a day--five -hundred and twenty pounds a year--for life. It was a competency. -Added to what he already had, it was wealth. With that income he -could fling the tools of his trade into the river and live out the -remainder of his life in comfort and security. - -He glanced furtively at his guest across the table, and then looked -away quickly as he felt stirring within him an impulse the nature of -which he could not mistake. This must be put an end to. Crimes -against the person he had always looked upon as sheer insanity. There -was, it is true, that little affair of the Weybridge policeman, but -that was unforeseen and unavoidable, and it was the constable’s doing -after all. And there was the old housekeeper at Epsom, too, but, of -course, if the old idiot would shriek in that insane fashion--well, -it was an accident, very regrettable, to be sure, and no one could be -more sorry for the mishap than himself. But deliberate -homicide!--robbery from the person! It was the act of a stark lunatic. - -Of course, if he had happened to be that sort of person, here was the -opportunity of a lifetime. The immense booty, the empty house, the -solitary neighbourhood, away from the main road and from other -habitations; the time, the darkness--but, of course, there was the -body to be thought of; that was always the difficulty. What to do -with the body---- Here he caught the shriek of the up express, -rounding the curve in the line that ran past the waste land at the -back of the house. The sound started a new train of thought, and, as -he followed it out, his eyes fixed themselves on the unconscious and -taciturn Brodski, as he sat thoughtfully sipping his whisky. At -length, averting his gaze with an effort, he rose suddenly from his -chair and turned to look at the clock on the mantelpiece, spreading -out his hands before the dying fire. A tumult of strange sensations -warned him to leave the house. He shivered slightly, though he was -rather hot than chilly, and, turning his head, looked at the door. - -“Seems to be a confounded draught,” he said, with another slight -shiver; “did I shut the door properly, I wonder?” He strode across -the room and, opening the door wide, looked out into the dark garden. -A desire, sudden and urgent, had come over him to get out into the -open air, to be on the road and have done with this madness that was -knocking at the door of his brain. - -“I wonder if it is worth while to start yet,” he said, with a -yearning glance at the murky, starless sky. - -Brodski roused himself and looked round. “Is your clock right?” he -asked. - -Silas reluctantly admitted that it was. - -“How long will it take us to walk to the station?” inquired Brodski. - -“Oh, about twenty-five minutes to half-an-hour,” replied Silas, -unconsciously exaggerating the distance. - -“Well,” said Brodski, “we’ve got more than an hour yet, and it’s more -comfortable here than hanging about the station. I don’t see the use -of starting before we need.” - -“No; of course not,” Silas agreed. A wave of strange emotion, -half-regretful, half-triumphant, surged through his brain. For some -moments he remained standing on the threshold, looking out dreamily -into the night. Then he softly closed the door; and, seemingly -without the exercise of his volition, the key turned noiselessly in -the lock. - -He returned to his chair and tried to open a conversation with the -taciturn Brodski, but the words came faltering and disjointed. He -felt his face growing hot, his brain full and intense, and there was -a faint, high-pitched singing in his ears. He was conscious of -watching his guest with a new and fearful interest, and, by sheer -force of will, turned away his eyes; only to find them a moment later -involuntarily returning to fix the unconscious man with yet more -horrible intensity. And ever through his mind walked, like a dreadful -procession, the thoughts of what that other man--the man of blood and -violence--would do in these circumstances. Detail by detail the -hideous synthesis fitted together the parts of the imagined crime, -and arranged them in due sequence until they formed a succession of -events, rational, connected and coherent. - -He rose uneasily from his chair, with his eyes still riveted upon his -guest. He could not sit any longer opposite that man with his hidden -store of precious gems. The impulse that he recognized with fear and -wonder was growing more ungovernable from moment to moment. If he -stayed it would presently overpower him, and then---- He shrank with -horror from the dreadful thought, but his fingers itched to handle -the diamonds. For Silas was, after all, a criminal by nature and -habit. He was a beast of prey. His livelihood had never been earned; -it had been taken by stealth or, if necessary, by force. His -instincts were predacious, and the proximity of unguarded valuables -suggested to him, as a logical consequence, their abstraction or -seizure. His unwillingness to let these diamonds go away beyond his -reach was fast becoming overwhelming. - -But he would make one more effort to escape. He would keep out of -Brodski’s actual presence until the moment for starting came. - -“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I will go and put on a thicker pair -of boots. After all this dry weather we may get a change, and damp -feet are very uncomfortable when you are travelling.” - -“Yes; dangerous too,” agreed Brodski. - -Silas walked through into the adjoining kitchen, where, by the light -of the little lamp that was burning there, he had seen his stout, -country boots placed, cleaned and in readiness, and sat down upon a -chair to make the change. He did not, of course, intend to wear the -country boots, for the diamonds were concealed in those he had on. -But he would make the change and then alter his mind; it would all -help to pass the time. He took a deep breath. It was a relief, at any -rate, to be out of that room. Perhaps if he stayed away, the -temptation would pass. Brodski would go on his way--he wished that he -was going alone--and the danger would be over--at least--and the -opportunity would have gone--the diamonds---- - -He looked up as he slowly unlaced his boot. From where he sat he -could see Brodski sitting by the table with his back towards the -kitchen door. He had finished eating, now, and was composedly rolling -a cigarette. Silas breathed heavily, and, slipping off his boot, sat -for a while motionless, gazing steadily at the other man’s back. Then -he unlaced the other boot, still staring abstractedly at his -unconscious guest, drew it off, and laid it very quietly on the floor. - -Brodski calmly finished rolling his cigarette, licked the paper, put -away his pouch, and, having dusted the crumbs of tobacco from his -knees, began to search his pockets for a match. Suddenly, yielding to -an uncontrollable impulse, Silas stood up and began stealthily to -creep along the passage to the sitting-room. Not a sound came from -his stockinged feet. Silently as a cat he stole forward, breathing -softly with parted lips, until he stood at the threshold of the room. -His face flushed duskily, his eyes, wide and staring, glittered in -the lamplight, and the racing blood hummed in his ears. - -Brodski struck a match--Silas noted that it was a wooden -vesta--lighted his cigarette, blew out the match and flung it into -the fender. Then he replaced the box in his pocket and commenced to -smoke. - -Slowly and without a sound Silas crept forward into the room, step by -step, with catlike stealthiness, until he stood close behind -Brodski’s chair--so close that he had to turn his head that his -breath might not stir the hair upon the other man’s head. So, for -half-a-minute, he stood motionless, like a symbolical statue of -Murder, glaring down with horrible, glittering eyes upon the -unconscious diamond merchant, while his quick breath passed without a -sound through his open mouth and his fingers writhed slowly like the -tentacles of a giant hydra. And then, as noiselessly as ever, he -backed away to the door, turned quickly and walked back into the -kitchen. - -He drew a deep breath. It had been a near thing. Brodski’s life had -hung upon a thread. For it had been so easy. Indeed, if he had -happened, as he stood behind the man’s chair, to have a weapon--a -hammer, for instance, or even a stone---- - -He glanced round the kitchen and his eyes lighted on a bar that had -been left by the workmen who had put up the new greenhouse. It was an -odd piece cut off from a square, wrought-iron stanchion, and was -about a foot long and perhaps three-quarters of an inch thick. Now, -if he had had that in his hand a minute ago---- - -He picked the bar up, balanced it in his hand and swung it round his -head. A formidable weapon this: silent, too. And it fitted the plan -that had passed through his brain. Bah! He had better put the thing -down. - -But he did not. He stepped over to the door and looked again at -Brodski, sitting, as before, meditatively smoking, with his back -towards the kitchen. - -Suddenly a change came over Silas. His face flushed, the veins of his -neck stood out and a sullen scowl settled on his face. He drew out -his watch, glanced at it earnestly and replaced it. Then he strode -swiftly but silently along the passage into the sitting-room. - -A pace away from his victim’s chair he halted and took deliberate -aim. The bar swung aloft, but not without some faint rustle of -movement, for Brodski looked round quickly even as the iron whistled -through the air. The movement disturbed the murderer’s aim, and the -bar glanced off his victim’s head, making only a trifling wound. -Brodski sprang up with a tremulous, bleating cry, and clutched his -assailant’s arms with the tenacity of mortal terror. - -Then began a terrible struggle, as the two men, locked in a deadly -embrace, swayed to and fro and trampled backwards and forwards. The -chair was overturned, an empty glass swept from the table and, with -Brodski’s spectacles, crushed beneath stamping feet. And thrice that -dreadful, pitiful, bleating cry rang out into the night, filling -Silas, despite his murderous frenzy, with terror lest some chance -wayfarer should hear it. Gathering his great strength for a final -effort, he forced his victim backwards onto the table and, snatching -up a corner of the tablecloth, thrust it into his face and crammed it -into his mouth as it opened to utter another shriek. And thus they -remained for a full two minutes, almost motionless, like some -dreadful group of tragic allegory. Then, when the last faint -twitchings had died away, Silas relaxed his grasp and let the limp -body slip softly onto the floor. - -It was over. For good or for evil, the thing was done. Silas stood -up, breathing heavily, and, as he wiped the sweat from his face, he -looked at the clock. The hands stood at one minute to seven. The -whole thing had taken a little over three minutes. He had nearly an -hour in which to finish his task. The goods train that entered into -his scheme came by at twenty minutes past, and it was only three -hundred yards to the line. Still, he must not waste time. He was now -quite composed, and only disturbed by the thought that Brodski’s -cries might have been heard. If no one had heard them it was all -plain sailing. - -He stooped, and, gently disengaging the tablecloth from the dead -man’s teeth, began a careful search of his pockets. He was not long -finding what he sought, and, as he pinched the paper packet and felt -the little hard bodies grating on one another inside, his faint -regrets for what had happened were swallowed up in -self-congratulations. - -He now set about his task with business-like briskness and an -attentive eye on the clock. A few large drops of blood had fallen on -the tablecloth, and there was a small bloody smear on the carpet by -the dead man’s head. Silas fetched from the kitchen some water, a -nail-brush and a dry cloth, and, having washed out the stains from -the table-cover--not forgetting the deal table-top underneath--and -cleaned away the smear from the carpet and rubbed the damp places -dry, he slipped a sheet of paper under the head of the corpse to -prevent further contamination. Then he set the table cloth straight, -stood the chair upright, laid the broken spectacles on the table and -picked up the cigarette, which had been trodden flat in the struggle, -and flung it under the grate. Then there was the broken glass, which -he swept up into a dust-pan. Part of it was the remains of the -shattered tumbler, and the rest the fragments of the broken -spectacles. He turned it out onto a sheet of paper and looked it over -carefully, picking out the larger recognizable pieces of the -spectacle-glasses and putting them aside on a separate slip of paper, -together with a sprinkling of the minute fragments. The remainder he -shot back into the dust-pan and, having hurriedly put on his boots, -carried it out to the rubbish-heap at the back of the house. - -It was now time to start. Hastily cutting off a length of string from -his string-box--for Silas was an orderly man and despised the -oddments of string with which many people make shift--he tied it to -the dead man’s bag and umbrella and slung them from his shoulder. -Then he folded up the paper of broken glass, and, slipping it and the -spectacles into his pocket, picked up the body and threw it over his -shoulder. Brodski was a small, spare man, weighing not more than nine -stone; not a very formidable burden for a big, athletic man like -Silas. - -The night was intensely dark, and, when Silas looked out of the back -gate over the waste land that stretched from his house to the -railway, he could hardly see twenty yards ahead. After listening -cautiously and hearing no sound, he went out, shut the gate softly -behind him and set forth at a good pace, though carefully, over the -broken ground. His progress was not as silent as he could have wished -for, though the scanty turf that covered the gravelly land was thick -enough to deaden his footfalls, the swinging bag and umbrella made an -irritating noise; indeed, his movements were more hampered by them -than by the weightier burden. - -The distance to the line was about three hundred yards. Ordinarily he -would have walked it in from three to four minutes, but now, going -cautiously with his burden and stopping now and again to listen, it -took him just six minutes to reach the three-bar fence that separated -the waste land from the railway. Arrived here he halted for a moment -and once more listened attentively, peering into the darkness on all -sides. Not a living creature was to be seen or heard in this desolate -spot, but far away, the shriek of an engine’s whistle warned him to -hasten. - -Lifting the corpse easily over the fence, he carried it a few yards -farther to a point where the line curved sharply. Here he laid it -face downwards, with the neck over the near rail. Drawing out his -pocket-knife, he cut through the knot that fastened the umbrella to -the string and also secured the bag; and when he had flung the bag -and umbrella on the track beside the body, he carefully pocketed the -string, excepting the little loop that had fallen to the ground when -the knot was cut. - -The quick snort and clanking rumble of an approaching goods train -began now to be clearly audible. Rapidly, Silas drew from his pockets -the battered spectacles and the packet of broken glass. The former he -threw down by the dead man’s head, and then, emptying the packet into -his hand, sprinkled the fragments of glass around the spectacles. - -He was none too soon. Already the quick, laboured puffing of the -engine sounded close at hand. His impulse was to stay and watch; to -witness the final catastrophe that should convert the murder into an -accident or suicide. But it was hardly safe: it would be better that -he should not be near lest he should not be able to get away without -being seen. Hastily he climbed back over the fence and strode away -across the rough fields, while the train came snorting and clattering -towards the curve. - -He had nearly reached his back gate when a sound from the line -brought him to a sudden halt; it was a prolonged whistle accompanied -by the groan of brakes and the loud clank of colliding trucks. The -snorting of the engine had ceased and was replaced by the penetrating -hiss of escaping steam. - -The train had stopped! - -For one brief moment Silas stood with bated breath and mouth agape -like one petrified; then he strode forward quickly to the gate, and, -letting himself in, silently slid the bolt. He was undeniably -alarmed. What could have happened on the line? It was practically -certain that the body had been seen; but what was happening now? and -would they come to the house? He entered the kitchen, and having -paused again to listen--for somebody might come and knock at the door -at any moment--he walked through the sitting-room and looked round. -All seemed in order there. There was the bar, though, lying where he -had dropped it in the scuffle. He picked it up and held it under the -lamp. There was no blood on it; only one or two hairs. Somewhat -absently he wiped it with the table-cover, and then, running out -through the kitchen into the back garden, dropped it over the wall -into a bed of nettles. Not that there was any thing incriminating in -the bar, but, since he had used it as a weapon, it had somehow -acquired a sinister aspect to his eye. - -He now felt that it would be well to start for the station at once. -It was not time yet, for it was barely twenty-five minutes past -seven; but he did not wish to be found in the house if any one should -come. His soft hat was on the sofa with his bag, to which his -umbrella was strapped. He put on the hat, caught up the bag and -stepped over to the door; then he came back to turn down the lamp. -And it was at this moment, when he stood with his hand raised to the -burner, that his eyes, travelling by chance into the dim corner of -the room, lighted on Brodski’s grey felt hat, reposing on the chair -where the dead man had placed it when he entered the house. - -Silas stood for a few moments as if petrified, with the chilly sweat -of mortal fear standing in beads upon his forehead. Another instant -and he would have turned the lamp down and gone on his way; and then -he strode over to the chair, snatched up the hat and looked inside -it. Yes, there was the name, “Oscar Brodski,” written plainly on the -lining. If he had gone away, leaving it to be discovered, he would -have been lost; indeed, even now, if a search-party should come to -the house, it was enough to send him to the gallows. - -His limbs shook with horror at the thought, but in spite of his panic -he did not lose his self-possession. Darting through into the -kitchen, he grabbed up a handful of the dry brush-wood that was kept -for lighting fires and carried it to the sitting-room grate where he -thrust it on the extinct, but still hot, embers, and crumpling up the -paper that he had placed under Brodski’s head--on which paper he now -noticed, for the first time, a minute bloody smear--he poked it in -under the wood, and striking a wax match, set light to it. As the -wood flared up, he hacked at the hat with his pocket knife and threw -the ragged strips into the blaze. - -And all the while his heart was thumping and his hands a-tremble with -the dread of discovery. The fragments of felt were far from -inflammable, tending rather to fuse into cindery masses that smoked -and smouldered than to burn away into actual ash. Moreover, to his -dismay, they emitted a powerful resinous stench mixed with the odour -of burning hair, so that he had to open the kitchen window (since he -dared not unlock the front door) to disperse the reek. And still, as -he fed the fire with small cut fragments, he strained his ears to -catch, above the crackling of the wood, the sound of the dreaded -footsteps, the knock on the door that should be as the summons of -Fate. - -The time, too, was speeding on. Twenty-one minutes to eight! In a few -minutes more he must set out or he would miss the train. He dropped -the dismembered hat-brim on the blazing wood and ran upstairs to open -a window, since he must close that in the kitchen before he left. -When he came back, the brim had already curled up into a black, -clinkery mass that bubbled and hissed as the fat, pungent smoke rose -from it sluggishly to the chimney. - -Nineteen minutes to eight! It was time to start. He took up the poker -and carefully beat the cinders into small particles, stirring them -into the glowing embers of the wood and coal. There was nothing -unusual in the appearance of the grate. It was his constant custom to -burn letters and other discarded articles in the sitting room fire: -his housekeeper would notice nothing out of the common. Indeed, the -cinders would probably be reduced to ashes before she returned. He -had been careful to notice that there were no metallic fittings of -any kind in the hat, which might have escaped burning. - -Once more he picked up his bag, took a last look round, turned down -the lamp and, unlocking the door, held it open for a few moments. -Then he went out, locked the door, pocketed the key (of which his -housekeeper had a duplicate) and set off at a brisk pace for the -station. - -He arrived in good time after all, and, having taken his ticket, -strolled through onto the platform. The train was not yet signalled, -but there seemed to be an unusual stir in the place. The passengers -were collected in a group at one end of the platform, and were all -looking in one direction down the line; and, even as he walked -towards them, with a certain tremulous, nauseating curiosity, two men -emerged from the darkness and ascended the slope to the platform, -carrying a stretcher covered with a tarpaulin. The passengers parted -to let the bearers pass, turning fascinated eyes upon the shape that -showed faintly through the rough pall; and, when the stretcher had -been borne into the lamp-room, they fixed their attention upon a -porter who followed carrying a handbag and an umbrella. - -Suddenly one of the passengers started forward with an exclamation. - -“Is that his umbrella?” he demanded. - -“Yes, sir,” answered the porter, stopping and holding it out for the -speaker’s inspection. - -“My God!” ejaculated the passenger; then, turning sharply to a tall -man who stood close by, he said excitedly: “That’s Brodski’s -umbrella. I could swear to it. You remember Brodski?” The tall man -nodded, and the passenger, turning once more to the porter, said: “I -identify that umbrella. It belongs to a gentleman named Brodski. If -you look in his hat you will see his name written in it. He always -writes his name in his hat.” - -“We haven’t found his hat yet,” said the porter; “but here is the -station-master coming up the line.” He awaited the arrival of his -superior and then announced: “This gentleman, sir, has identified the -umbrella.” - -“Oh,” said the station-master, “you recognize the umbrella, sir, do -you? Then perhaps you would step into the lamp-room and see if you -can identify the body.” - -“Is it--is he--very much injured?” the passenger asked tremulously. - -“Well, yes,” was the reply. “You see, the engine and six of the -trucks went over him before they could stop the train. Took his head -clean off, in fact.” - -“Shocking! shocking!” gasped the passenger. “I think, if you don’t -mind--I’d--I’d rather not. You don’t think it’s necessary, doctor, do -you?” - -“Yes, I do,” replied the tall man. “Early identification may be of -the first importance.” - -“Then I suppose I must,” said the passenger. - -Very reluctantly he allowed himself to be conducted by the -station-master to the lamp-room, as the clang of the bell announced -the approaching train. Silas Hickler followed and took his stand with -the expectant crowd outside the closed door. In a few moments the -passenger burst out, pale and awe-stricken, and rushed up to his tall -friend. “It is!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “It’s Brodski! Poor old -Brodski! Horrible! horrible! He was to have met me here and come on -with me to Amsterdam.” - -“Had he any--merchandize about him?” the tall man asked; and Silas -strained his ears to catch the reply. - -“He had some stones, no doubt, but I don’t know what. His clerk will -know, of course. By the way, doctor, could you watch the case for me? -Just to be sure it was really an accident or--you know what. We were -old friends, you know, fellow townsmen, too; we were both born in -Warsaw. I’d like you to give an eye to the case.” - -“Very well,” said the other. “I will satisfy myself that--there is -nothing more than appears, and let you have a report. Will that do?” - -“Thank you. It’s excessively good of you, doctor. Ah! here comes the -train. I hope it won’t inconvenience you to stay and see to this -matter.” - -“Not in the least,” replied the doctor. “We are not due at Warmington -until tomorrow afternoon, and I expect we can find out all that is -necessary to know before that.” - -Silas looked long and curiously at the tall, imposing man who was, as -it were, taking his seat at the chess board, to play against him for -his life. A formidable antagonist he looked, with his keen, -thoughtful face, so resolute and calm. As Silas stepped into his -carriage he thought with deep discomfort of Brodski’s hat, and hoped -that he had made no other oversight. - - -PART II - -THE MECHANISM OF DETECTION - -(_Related by Christopher Jervis, M.D._) - -The singular circumstances that attended the death of Mr. Oscar -Brodski, the well-known diamond merchant of Hatton Garden, -illustrated very forcibly the importance of one or two points in -medico-legal practice which Thorndyke was accustomed to insist were -not sufficiently appreciated. What those points were, I shall leave -my friend and teacher to state at the proper place; and meanwhile, as -the case is in the highest degree instructive, I shall record the -incidents in the order of their occurrence. - -The dusk of an October evening was closing in as Thorndyke and I, the -sole occupants of a smoking compartment, found ourselves approaching -the little station of Ludham; and, as the train slowed down, we -peered out at the knot of country people who were waiting on the -platform. Suddenly Thorndyke exclaimed in a tone of surprise: “Why, -that is surely Boscovitch!” and almost at the same moment a brisk, -excitable little man darted at the door of our compartment and -literally tumbled in. - -“I hope I don’t intrude on this learned conclave,” he said, shaking -hands genially and banging his Gladstone with impulsive violence into -the rack; “but I saw your faces at the window, and naturally jumped -at the chance of such pleasant companionship.” - -“You are very flattering,” said Thorndyke; “so flattering that you -leave us nothing to say. But what in the name of fortune are you -doing at--what’s the name of the place--Ludham?” - -“My brother has a little place a mile or so from here, and I have -been spending a couple of days with him,” Mr. Boscovitch explained. -“I shall change at Badsham Junction and catch the boat train for -Amsterdam. But whither are you two bound? I see you have your -mysterious little green box up on the hat-rack, so I infer that you -are on some romantic quest, eh? Going to unravel some dark and -intricate crime?” - -“No,” replied Thorndyke. “We are bound for Warmington on a quite -prosaic errand. I am instructed to watch the proceedings at an -inquest there to-morrow on behalf of the Griffin Life Insurance -Office, and we are travelling down to-night as it is rather a -cross-country journey.” - -“But why the box of magic?” asked Boscovitch, glancing up at the -hat-rack. - -“I never go away from home without it,” answered Thorndyke. “One -never knows what may turn up; the trouble of carrying it is small -when set off against the comfort of having appliances at hand in an -emergency.” - -Boscovitch continued to stare up at the little square case covered -with Willesden canvas. Presently he remarked: “I often used to wonder -what you had in it when you were down at Chelmsford in connection -with that bank murder--what an amazing case that was, by the way, and -didn’t your methods of research astonish the police!” As he still -looked up wistfully at the case, Thorndyke good-naturedly lifted it -down and unlocked it. As a matter of fact he was rather proud of his -“portable laboratory,” and certainly it was a triumph of -condensation, for, small as it was--only a foot square by four inches -deep--it contained a fairly complete outfit for a preliminary -investigation. - -“Wonderful!” exclaimed Boscovitch, when the case lay open before him, -displaying its rows of little reagent bottles, tiny test-tubes, -diminutive spirit-lamp, dwarf microscope and assorted instruments on -the same Lilliputian scale; “it’s like a doll’s house--everything -looks as if it was seen through the wrong end of a telescope. But are -these tiny things really efficient? That microscope now----” - -“Perfectly efficient at low and moderate magnifications,” said -Thorndyke. “It looks like a toy, but it isn’t one; the lenses are the -best that can be had. Of course a full-sized instrument would be -infinitely more convenient--but I shouldn’t have it with me, and -should have to make shift with a pocket-lens. And so with the rest of -the under-sized appliances; they are the alternative to no -appliances.” - -Boscovitch pored over the case and its contents, fingering the -instruments delicately and asking questions innumerable about their -uses; indeed, his curiosity was but half appeased when, half-an-hour -later, the train began to slow down. - -“By Jove!” he exclaimed, starting up and seizing his bag, “here we -are at the junction already. You change here too, don’t you?” - -“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “We take the branch train on to Warmington.” - -As we stepped out onto the platform, we became aware that something -unusual was happening or had happened. All the passengers and most of -the porters and supernumeraries were gathered at one end of the -station, and all were looking intently into the darkness down the -line. - -“Anything wrong?” asked Mr. Boscovitch, addressing the -station-inspector. - -“Yes, sir,” the official replied; “a man has been run over by the -goods train about a mile down the line. The station master has gone -down with a stretcher to bring him in, and I expect that is his -lantern that you see coming this way.” - -As we stood watching the dancing light grow momentarily brighter, -flashing fitful reflections from the burnished rails, a man came out -of the booking-office and joined the group of onlookers. He attracted -my attention, as I afterwards remembered, for two reasons: in the -first place his round, jolly face was excessively pale and bore a -strained and wild expression, and, in the second, though he stared -into the darkness with eager curiosity he asked no questions. - -The swinging lantern continued to approach, and then suddenly two men -came into sight bearing a stretcher covered with a tarpaulin, through -which the shape of a human figure was dimly discernible. They -ascended the slope to the platform, and proceeded with their burden -to the lamp-room, when the inquisitive gaze of the passengers was -transferred to a porter who followed carrying a handbag and umbrella -and to the station-master who brought up the rear with his lantern. - -As the porter passed, Mr. Boscovitch started forward with sudden -excitement. - -“Is that his umbrella?” he asked. - -“Yes, sir,” answered the porter, stopping and holding it out for the -speaker’s inspection. - -“My God!” ejaculated Boscovitch; then, turning sharply to Thorndyke, -he exclaimed: “That’s Brodski’s umbrella. I could swear to it. You -remember Brodski?” - -Thorndyke nodded, and Boscovitch, turning once more to the porter, -said: “I identify that umbrella. It belongs to a gentleman named -Brodski. If you look in his hat, you will see his name written in it. -He always writes his name in his hat.” - -“We haven’t found his hat yet,” said the porter; “but here is the -station-master.” He turned to his superior and announced: “This -gentleman, sir, has identified the umbrella.” - -“Oh,” said the station-master, “you recognize the umbrella, sir, do -you? Then perhaps you would step into the lamp-room and see if you -can identify the body.” - -Mr. Boscovitch recoiled with a look of alarm. “Is it--is he--very -much injured?” he asked nervously. - -“Well, yes,” was the reply. “You see, the engine and six of the -trucks went over him before they could stop the train. Took his head -clean off, in fact.” - -“Shocking! shocking!” gasped Boscovitch. “I think--if you don’t -mind--I’d--I’d rather not. You don’t think it necessary, doctor, do -you?” - -“Yes, I do,” replied Thorndyke. “Early identification may be of the -first importance.” - -“Then I suppose I must,” said Boscovitch; and, with extreme -reluctance, he followed the station-master to the lamp-room, as the -loud ringing of the bell announced the approach of the boat train. -His inspection must have been of the briefest, for, in a few moments, -he burst out, pale and awe-stricken, and rushed up to Thorndyke. - -“It is!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “It’s Brodski! Poor old Brodski! -Horrible! horrible! He was to have met me here and come on with me to -Amsterdam.” - -“Had he any--merchandize about him?” Thorndyke asked; and, as he -spoke, the stranger whom I had previously noticed edged up closer as -if to catch the reply. - -“He had some stones, no doubt,” answered Boscovitch, “but I don’t -know what they were. His clerk will know, of course. By the way, -doctor, could you watch the case for me? Just to be sure it was -really an accident or--you know what. We were old friends, you know, -fellow townsmen, too; we were both born in Warsaw. I’d like you to -give an eye to the case.” - -“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “I will satisfy myself that there is -nothing more than appears, and let you have a report. Will that do?” - -“Thank you,” said Boscovitch. “It’s excessively good of you, doctor. -Ah, here comes the train. I hope it won’t inconvenience you to stay -and see to the matter.” - -“Not in the least,” replied Thorndyke. “We are not due at Warmington -until tomorrow afternoon, and I expect we can find out all that is -necessary to know and still keep our appointment.” - -As Thorndyke spoke, the stranger, who had kept close to us with the -evident purpose of hearing what was said, bestowed on him a very -curious and attentive look; and it was only when the train had -actually come to rest by the platform that he hurried away to find a -compartment. - -No sooner had the train left the station than Thorndyke sought out -the station-master and informed him of the instructions that he had -received from Boscovitch. “Of course,” he added, in conclusion, “we -must not move in the matter until the police arrive. I suppose they -have been informed?” - -“Yes,” replied the station-master; “I sent a message at once to the -Chief Constable, and I expect him or an inspector at any moment. In -fact, I think I will slip out to the approach and see if he is -coming.” He evidently wished to have a word in private with the -police officer before committing himself to any statement. - -As the official departed, Thorndyke and I began to pace the now empty -platform, and my friend, as was his wont, when entering on a new -inquiry, meditatively reviewed the features of the problem. - -“In a case of this kind,” he remarked, “we have to decide on one of -three possible explanations: accident, suicide or homicide; and our -decision will be determined by inferences from three sets of facts: -first, the general facts of the case; second, the special data -obtained by examination of the body, and, third, the special data -obtained by examining the spot on which the body was found. Now the -only general facts at present in our possession are that the deceased -was a diamond merchant making a journey for a specific purpose and -probably having on his person property of small bulk and great value. -These facts are somewhat against the hypothesis of suicide and -somewhat favourable to that of homicide. Facts relevant to the -question of accident would be the existence or otherwise of a level -crossing, a road or path leading to the line, an enclosing fence with -or without a gate, and any other facts rendering probable or -otherwise the accidental presence of the deceased at the spot where -the body was found. As we do not possess these facts, it is desirable -that we extend our knowledge.” - -“Why not put a few discreet questions to the porter who brought in -the bag and umbrella?” I suggested. “He is at this moment in earnest -conversation with the ticket collector and would, no doubt, be glad -of a new listener.” - -“An excellent suggestion, Jervis,” answered Thorndyke. “Let us see -what he has to tell us.” We approached the porter and found him, as I -had anticipated, bursting to unburden himself of the tragic story. - -“The way the thing happened, sir, was this,” he said, in answer to -Thorndyke’s question: “There’s a sharpish bend in the road just at -that place, and the goods train was just rounding the curve when the -driver suddenly caught sight of something lying across the rails. As -the engine turned, the headlights shone on it and then he saw it was -a man. He shut off steam at once, blew his whistle, and put the -brakes down hard, but, as you know, sir, a goods train takes some -stopping; before they could bring her up, the engine and half-a-dozen -trucks had gone over the poor beggar.” - -“Could the driver see how the man was lying?” Thorndyke asked. - -“Yes, he could see him quite plain, because the head lights were full -on him. He was lying on his face with his neck over the near rail on -the down side. His head was in the four-foot and his body by the side -of the track. It looked as if he had laid himself out a-purpose.” - -“Is there a level crossing thereabouts?” asked Thorndyke. - -“No, sir. No crossing, no road, no path, no nothing,” said the -porter, ruthlessly sacrificing grammar to emphasis. “He must have -come across the fields and climbed over the fence to get onto the -permanent way. Deliberate suicide is what it looks like.” - -“How did you learn all this?” Thorndyke inquired. - -“Why, the driver, you see, sir, when him and his mate had lifted the -body off the track, went on to the next signal box and sent in his -report by telegram. The station-master told me all about it as we -walked down the line.” - -Thorndyke thanked the man for his information, and, as we strolled -back towards the lamp-room, discussed the bearing of these new facts. - -“Our friend is unquestionably right in one respect,” he said; “this -was not an accident. The man might, if he were near-sighted, deaf or -stupid, have climbed over the fence and got knocked down by the -train. But his position, lying across the rails, can only be -explained by one of two hypotheses: either it was, as the porter -says, deliberate suicide, or else the man was already dead or -insensible. We must leave it at that until we have seen the body, -that is, if the police will allow us to see it. But here comes the -station-master and an officer with him. Let us hear what they have to -say.” - -The two officials had evidently made up their minds to decline any -outside assistance. The divisional surgeon would make the necessary -examination, and information could be obtained through the usual -channels. The production of Thorndyke’s card, however, somewhat -altered the situation. The police inspector hummed and hawed -irresolutely, with the card in his hand, but finally agreed to allow -us to view the body, and we entered the lamp-room together, the -station-master leading the way to turn up the gas. - -The stretcher stood on the floor by one wall, its grim burden still -hidden by the tarpaulin, and the hand-bag and umbrella lay on a large -box, together with the battered frame of a pair of spectacles from -which the glasses had fallen out. - -“Were these spectacles found by the body?” Thorndyke inquired. - -“Yes,” replied the station-master. “They were close to the head and -the glass was scattered about on the ballast.” - -Thorndyke made a note in his pocket-book, and then, as he inspector -removed the tarpaulin, he glanced down on the corpse, lying limply on -the stretcher and looking grotesquely horrible with its displaced -head and distorted limbs. For fully a minute he remained silently -stooping over the uncanny object, on which the inspector was now -throwing the light of a large lantern; then he stood up and said -quietly to me: “I think we can eliminate two out of the three -hypotheses.” - -The inspector looked at him quickly, and was about to ask a question, -when his attention was diverted by the travelling-case which -Thorndyke had laid on a shelf and now opened to abstract a couple of -pairs of dissecting forceps. - -“We’ve no authority to make a _post mortem_, you know,” said the -inspector. - -“No, of course not,” said Thorndyke. “I am merely going to look into -the mouth.” With one pair of forceps he turned back the lip and, -having scrutinized its inner surface, closely examined the teeth. - -“May I trouble you for your lens, Jervis?” he said; and, as I handed -him my doublet ready opened, the inspector brought the lantern close -to the dead face and leaned forward eagerly. In his usual systematic -fashion, Thorndyke slowly passed the lens along the whole range of -sharp, uneven teeth, and then, bringing it back to the centre, -examined with more minuteness the upper incisors. At length, very -delicately, he picked out with his forceps some minute object from -between two of the upper front teeth and held it in the focus of the -lens. Anticipating his next move, I took a labelled microscope-slide -from the case and handed it to him together with a dissecting needle, -and, as he transferred the object to the slide and spread it out with -the needle, I set up the little microscope on the shelf. - -“A drop of Farrant and a cover-glass, please, Jervis,” said Thorndyke. - -I handed him the bottle, and, when he had let a drop of the mounting -fluid fall gently on the object and put on the cover-slip, he placed -the slide on the stage of the microscope and examined it attentively. - -Happening to glance at the inspector, I observed on his countenance a -faint grin, which he politely strove to suppress when he caught my -eye. - -“I was thinking, sir,” he said apologetically, “that it’s a bit off -the track to be finding out what he had for dinner. He didn’t die of -unwholesome feeding.” - -Thorndyke looked up with a smile. “It doesn’t do, inspector, to -assume that anything is off the track in an inquiry of this kind. -Every fact must have some significance, you know.” - -“I don’t see any significance in the diet of a man who has had his -head cut off,” the inspector rejoined defiantly. - -“Don’t you?” said Thorndyke. “Is there no interest attaching to the -last meal of a man who has met a violent death? These crumbs, for -instance, that are scattered over the dead man’s waistcoat. Can we -learn nothing from them?” - -“I don’t see what you can learn,” was the dogged rejoinder. - -Thorndyke picked off the crumbs, one by one, with his forceps, and -having deposited them on a slide, inspected them, first with the lens -and then through the microscope. - -“I learn,” said he, “that shortly before his death, the deceased -partook of some kind of whole-meal biscuits, apparently composed -partly of oatmeal.” - -“I call that nothing,” said the inspector. “The question that we have -got to settle is not what refreshments had the deceased been taking, -but what was the cause of his death: did he commit suicide? was he -killed by accident? or was there any foul play?” - -“I beg your pardon,” said Thorndyke, “the questions that remain to be -settled are, who killed the deceased and with what motive? The others -are already answered as far as I am concerned.” - -The inspector stared in sheer amazement not unmixed with incredulity. - -“You haven’t been long coming to a conclusion, sir,” he said. - -“No, it was a pretty obvious case of murder,” said Thorndyke. “As to -the motive, the deceased was a diamond merchant and is believed to -have had a quantity of stones about his person. I should suggest that -you search the body.” - -The inspector gave vent to an exclamation of disgust. “I see,” he -said. “It was just a guess on your part. The dead man was a diamond -merchant and had valuable property about him; therefore he was -murdered.” He drew himself up, and, regarding Thorndyke with stern -reproach, added: “But you must understand, sir, that this is a -judicial inquiry, not a prize competition in a penny paper. And, as -to searching the body, why, that is what I principally came for.” He -ostentatiously turned his back on us and proceeded systematically to -turn out the dead man’s pockets, laying the articles, as he removed -them, on the box by the side of the hand-bag and umbrella. - -While he was thus occupied, Thorndyke looked over the body generally, -paying special attention to the soles of the boots, which, to the -inspector’s undissembled amusement, he very thoroughly examined with -the lens. - -“I should have thought, sir, that his feet were large enough to be -seen with the naked eye,” was his comment; “but perhaps,” he added, -with a sly glance at the station master, “you’re a little -near-sighted.” - -Thorndyke chuckled good-humouredly, and, while the officer continued -his search, he looked over the articles that had already been laid on -the box. The purse and pocket book he naturally left for the -inspector to open, but the reading-glasses, pocket-knife and -card-case and other small pocket articles were subjected to a -searching scrutiny. The inspector watched him out of the corner of -his eye with furtive amusement; saw him hold up the glasses to the -light to estimate their refractive power, peer into the tobacco -pouch, open the cigarette book and examine the watermark of the -paper, and even inspect the contents of the silver match-box. - -“What might you have expected to find in his tobacco pouch?” the -officer asked, laying down a bunch of keys from the dead man’s pocket. - -“Tobacco,” Thorndyke replied stolidly; “but I did not expect to find -fine-cut Latakia. I don’t remember ever having seen pure Latakia -smoked in cigarettes.” - -“You do take an interest in things, sir,” said the inspector, with a -side glance at the stolid station-master. - -“I do,” Thorndyke agreed; “and I note that there are no diamonds -among this collection.” - -“No, and we don’t know that he had any about him; but there’s a gold -watch and chain, a diamond scarf-pin, and a purse containing”--he -opened it and tipped out its contents into his hand--“twelve pounds -in gold. That doesn’t look much like robbery, does it? What do you -say to the murder theory now?” - -“My opinion is unchanged,” said Thorndyke, “and I should like to -examine the spot where the body was found. Has the engine been -inspected?” he added, addressing the station-master. - -“I telegraphed to Bradfield to have it examined,” the official -answered. “The report has probably come in by now. I’d better see -before we start down the line.” - -We emerged from the lamp-room and, at the door, found the -station-inspector waiting with a telegram. He handed it to the -station-master, who read it aloud. - -“The engine has been carefully examined by me. I find small smear of -blood on near leading wheel and smaller one on next wheel following. -No other marks.” He glanced questioningly at Thorndyke, who nodded -and remarked: “It will be interesting to see if the line tells the -same tale.” - -The station-master looked puzzled and was apparently about to ask for -an explanation; but the inspector, who had carefully pocketed the -dead man’s property, was impatient to start and, accordingly, when -Thorndyke had repacked his case and had, at his own request, been -furnished with a lantern, we set off down the permanent way, -Thorndyke carrying the light and I the indispensable green case. - -“I am a little in the dark about this affair,” I said, when we had -allowed the two officials to draw ahead out of ear shot; “you came to -a conclusion remarkably quickly. What was it that so immediately -determined the opinion of murder as against suicide?” - -“It was a small matter but very conclusive,” replied Thorndyke. “You -noticed a small scalp-wound above the left temple? It was a glancing -wound, and might easily have been made by the engine. But--the wound -had bled; and it had bled for an appreciable time. There were two -streams of blood from it, and in both the blood was firmly clotted -and partially dried. But the man had been decapitated; and this -wound, if inflicted by the engine, must have been made after the -decapitation, since it was on the side most distant from the engine -as it approached. Now, a decapitated head does not bleed. Therefore, -this wound was inflicted before the decapitation. - -“But not only had the wound bled: the blood had trickled down in two -streams at right angles to one another. First, in the order of time -as shown by the appearance of the stream, it had trickled down the -side of the face and dropped on the collar. The second stream ran -from the wound to the back of the head. Now, you know, Jervis, there -are no exceptions to the law of gravity. If the blood ran down the -face towards the chin, the face must have been upright at the time; -and if the blood trickled from the front to the back of the head, the -head must have been horizontal and face upwards. But the man when he -was seen by the engine driver, was lying _face downwards_. The only -possible inference is that when the wound was inflicted, the man was -in the upright position--standing or sitting; and that subsequently, -and while he was still alive, he lay on his back for a sufficiently -long time for the blood to have trickled to the back of his head.” - -“I see. I was a duffer not to have reasoned this out for myself,” I -remarked contritely. - -“Quick observation and rapid inference come by practice,” replied -Thorndyke. “What did you notice about the face?” - -“I thought there was a strong suggestion of asphyxia.” - -“Undoubtedly,” said Thorndyke. “It was the face of a suffocated man. -You must have noticed, too, that the tongue was very distinctly -swollen and that on the inside of the upper lip were deep -indentations made by the teeth, as well as one or two slight wounds, -obviously caused by heavy pressure on the mouth. And now observe how -completely these facts and inferences agree with those from the scalp -wound. If we knew that the deceased had received a blow on the head, -had struggled with his assailant and been finally borne down and -suffocated, we should look for precisely those signs which we have -found.” - -“By the way, what was it that you found wedged between the teeth? I -did not get a chance to look through the microscope.” - -“Ah!” said Thorndyke, “there we not only get confirmation, but we -carry our inferences a stage further. The object was a little tuft of -some textile fabric. Under the microscope I found it to consist of -several different fibres, differently dyed. The bulk of it consisted -of wool fibres dyed crimson, but there were also cotton fibres dyed -blue and a few which looked like jute, dyed yellow. It was obviously -a parti-coloured fabric and might have been part of a woman’s dress, -though the presence of the jute is much more suggestive of a curtain -or rug of inferior quality.” - -“And its importance?” - -“Is that, if it is not part of an article of clothing, then it must -have come from an article of furniture, and furniture suggests a -habitation.” - -“That doesn’t seem very conclusive,” I objected. - -“It is not; but it is valuable corroboration.” - -“Of what?” - -“Of the suggestion offered by the soles of the dead man’s boots. I -examined them most minutely and could find no trace of sand, gravel -or earth, in spite of the fact that he must have crossed fields and -rough land to reach the place where he was found. What I did find was -fine tobacco ash, a charred mark as if a cigar or cigarette had been -trodden on, Several crumbs of biscuit, and, on a projecting brad, -some coloured fibres, apparently from a carpet. The manifest -suggestion is that the man was killed in a house with a carpeted -floor, and carried from thence to the railway.” - -I was silent for Some moments. Well as I knew Thorndyke, I was -completely taken by surprise; a sensation, indeed, that I experienced -anew every time that I accompanied him on one of his investigations. -His marvellous power of co-ordinating apparently insignificant facts, -of arranging them into an ordered sequence and making them tell a -coherent story, was a phenomenon that I never got used to; every -exhibition of it astonished me afresh. - -“If your inferences are correct,” I said, “the problem is practically -solved. There must be abundant traces inside the house. The only -question is, which house is it?” - -“Quite so,” replied Thorndyke; “that is the question, and a very -difficult question it is. A glance at that interior would doubtless -clear up the whole mystery. But how are we to get that glance? We -cannot enter houses speculatively to see if they present traces of a -murder. At present, our clue breaks off abruptly. The other end of it -is in some unknown house, and, if we cannot join up the two ends, our -problem remains unsolved. For the question is, you remember, Who -killed Oscar Brodski?” - -“Then what do you propose to do?” I asked. - -“The next stage of the inquiry is to connect some particular house -with this crime. To that end, I can only gather up all available -facts and consider each in all its possible bearings. If I cannot -establish any such connection, then the inquiry will have failed and -we shall have to make a fresh start--say, at Amsterdam, if it turns -out that Brodski really had diamonds on his person, as I have no -doubt he had.” Here our conversation was interrupted by our arrival -at the spot where the body had been found. The station-master had -halted, and he and the inspector were now examining the near rail by -the light of their lanterns. - -“There’s remarkably little blood about,” said the former. “I’ve seen -a good many accidents of this kind and there has always been a lot of -blood, both on the engine and on the road. It’s very curious.” - -Thorndyke glanced at the rail with but slight attention: that -question had ceased to interest him. But the light of his lantern -flashed onto the ground at the side of the track--a loose, gravelly -soil mixed with fragments of chalk--and from thence to the soles of -the inspector’s boots, which were displayed as he knelt by the rail. - -“You observe, Jervis?” he said in a low voice, and I nodded. The -inspector’s boot-soles were covered with adherent particles of gravel -and conspicuously marked by the chalk on which he had trodden. - -“You haven’t found the hat, I suppose?” Thorndyke asked, stooping to -pick up a short piece of string that lay on the ground at the side of -the track. - -“No,” replied the inspector, “but it can’t be far off. You seem to -have found another clue, sir,” he added, with a grin, glancing at the -piece of string. - -“Who knows,” said Thorndyke. “A short end of white twine with a green -strand in it. It may tell us something later. At any rate we’ll keep -it,” and, taking from his pocket a small tin box containing, among -other things, a number of seed envelopes, he slipped the string into -one of the latter and scribbled a note in pencil on the outside. The -inspector watched his proceedings with an indulgent smile, and then -returned to his examination of the track, in which Thorndyke now -joined. - -“I suppose the poor chap was near-sighted,” the officer remarked, -indicating the remains of the shattered spectacles; “that might -account for his having strayed onto the line.” - -“Possibly,” said Thorndyke. He had already noticed the fragments -scattered over a sleeper and the adjacent ballast, and now once more -produced his “collecting-box,” from which he took another seed -envelope. “Would you hand me a pair of forceps, Jervis,” he said; -“and perhaps you wouldn’t mind taking a pair yourself and helping me -to gather up these fragments.” - -As I complied, the inspector looked up curiously. - -“There isn’t any doubt that these spectacles belonged to the -deceased, is there?” he asked. “He certainly wore spectacles, for I -saw the mark on his nose.” - -“Still, there is no harm in verifying the fact,” said Thorndyke, and -he added to me in a lower tone, “Pick up every particle you can find, -Jervis. It may be most important.” - -“I don’t quite see how,” I said, groping amongst the shingle by the -light of the lantern in search of the tiny splinters of glass. - -“Don’t you?” returned Thorndyke. “Well, look at these fragments; some -of them are a fair size, but many of these on the sleeper are mere -grains. And consider their number. Obviously, the condition of the -glass does not agree with the circumstances in which we find it. -These are thick con cave spectacle-lenses broken into a great number -of minute fragments. Now how were they broken? Not merely by falling, -evidently: such a lens, when it is dropped, breaks into a small -number of large pieces. Nor were they broken by the wheel passing -over them, for they would then have been reduced to fine powder, and -that powder would have been visible on the rail, which it is not. The -spectacle frames, you may remember, presented the same incongruity: -they were battered and damaged more than they would have been by -falling, but not nearly so much as they would have been if the wheel -had passed over them.” - -“What do you suggest, then?” I asked. - -“The appearances suggest that the spectacles had been trodden on. -But, if the body was carried here the probability is that the -spectacles were carried here too, and that they were then already -broken; for it is more likely that they were trodden on during the -struggle than that the murderer trod on them after bringing them -here. Hence the importance of picking up every fragment.” - -“But why?” I inquired, rather foolishly, I must admit. - -“Because, if, when we have picked up every fragment that we can find, -there still remains missing a larger portion of the lenses than we -could reasonably expect, that would tend to support our hypothesis -and we might find the missing remainder elsewhere. If, on the other -hand, we find as much of the lenses as we could expect to find, we -must conclude that they were broken on this spot.” - -While we were conducting our search, the two officials were circling -around with their lanterns in quest of the missing hat; and, when we -had at length picked up the last fragment, and a careful search, even -aided by a lens, failed to reveal any other, we could see their -lanterns moving, like will-o’-the-wisps, some distance down the line. - -“We may as well see what we have got before our friends come back,” -said Thorndyke, glancing at the twinkling lights. “Lay the case down -on the grass by the fence; it will serve for a table.” - -I did so, and Thorndyke, taking a letter from his pocket, opened it, -spread it out flat on the case, securing it with a couple of heavy -stones, although the night was quite calm. Then he tipped the -contents of the seed envelope out on the paper, and carefully -spreading out the pieces of glass, looked at them for some moments in -silence. And, as he looked, there stole over his face a very curious -expression; with sudden eagerness he began picking out the large -fragments and laying them on two visiting-cards which he had taken -from his card-case. Rapidly and with wonderful deftness he fitted the -pieces together, and, as the reconstituted lenses began gradually to -take shape on their cards I looked on with growing excitement, for -something in my colleague’s manner told me that we were on the verge -of a discovery. - -At length the two ovals of glass lay on their respective cards, -complete save for one or two small gaps; and the little heap that -remained consisted of fragments so minute as to render further -reconstruction impossible. Then Thorndyke leaned back and laughed -softly. - -“This is certainly an unlooked-for result,” said he. - -“What is?” I asked. - -“Don’t you see, my dear fellow? _There’s too much glass._ We have -almost completely built up the broken lenses, and the fragments that -are left over are considerably more than are required to fill up the -gaps.” - -I looked at the little heap of small fragments and saw at once that -it was as he had said. There was a surplus of small pieces. - -“This is very extraordinary,” I said. “What do you think can be the -explanation?” - -“The fragments will probably tell us,” he replied, “if we ask them -intelligently.” - -He lifted the paper and the two cards carefully onto the ground, and, -opening the case, took out the little microscope, to which he fitted -the lowest-power objective and eye-piece--having a combined -magnification of only ten diameters. Then he transferred the minute -fragments of glass to a slide, and, having arranged the lantern as a -microscope-lamp, commenced his examination. - -“Hal” he exclaimed presently. “The plot thickens. There is too much -glass and yet too little; that is to say, there are only one or two -fragments here that belong to the spectacles; not nearly enough to -complete the building up of the lenses. The remainder consists of a -soft, uneven, moulded glass, easily distinguished from the clear, -hard optical glass. These foreign fragments are all curved, as if -they had formed part of a cylinder, and are, I should say, portions -of a wine-glass or tumbler.” He moved the slide once or twice, and -then continued: “We are in luck, Jervis. Here is a fragment with two -little diverging lines etched on it, evidently the points of an -eight-rayed star--and here is another with three points--the ends of -three rays. This enables us to reconstruct the vessel perfectly. It -was a clear, thin glass--probably a tumbler--decorated with scattered -stars; I dare say you know the pattern. Sometimes there is an -ornamented band in addition, but generally the stars form the only -decoration. Have a look at the specimen.” - -I had just applied my eye to the microscope when the station-master -and the inspector came up. Our appearance, seated on the ground with -the microscope between us, was too much for the police officer’s -gravity, and he laughed long and joyously. - -“You must excuse me, gentlemen,” he said apologetically, “but really, -you know, to an old hand, like myself, it does look a -little--well--you understand--I dare say a microscope is a very -interesting and amusing thing, but it doesn’t get you much forrader -in a case like this, does it?” - -“Perhaps not,” replied Thorndyke. “By the way, where did you find the -hat, after all?” - -“We haven’t found it,” the inspector replied. - -“Then we must help you to continue the search,” said Thorndyke. “If -you will wait a few moments, we will come with you.” He poured a few -drops of xylol balsam on the cards to fix the reconstituted lenses to -their supports and then, packing them and the microscope in the case, -announced that he was ready to start. - -“Is there any village or hamlet near?” he asked the station-master. - -“None nearer than Corfield. That is about half-a-mile from here.” - -“And where is the nearest road?” - -“There is a half-made road that runs past a house about three hundred -yards from here. It belonged to a building estate that was never -built. There is a footpath from it to the station.” - -“Are there any other houses near?” - -“No. That is the only house for half-a-mile round, and there is no -other road near here.” - -“Then the probability is that Brodski approached the rail way from -that direction, as he was found on that side of the permanent way.” - -The inspector agreeing with this view, we all set off slowly towards -the house, piloted by the station-master and searching the ground as -we went. The waste land over which we passed was covered with patches -of docks and nettles, through each of which the inspector kicked his -way, searching with feet and lantern for the missing hat. A walk of -three hundred yards brought us to a low wall enclosing a garden, -beyond which we could see a small house; and here we halted while the -inspector waded into a large bed of nettles beside the wall and -kicked vigorously. Suddenly there came a clinking sound mingled with -objurgations, and the inspector hopped out holding one foot and -soliloquizing profanely. - -“I wonder what sort of a fool put a thing like that into a bed of -nettles!” he exclaimed, stroking the injured foot. Thorndyke picked -the object up and held it in the light of the lantern, displaying a -piece of three-quarter inch rolled iron bar about a foot long. “It -doesn’t seem to have been here very long,” he observed, examining it -closely, “there is hardly any rust on it.” - -“It has been there long enough for me,” growled the inspector, “and -I’d like to bang it on the head of the blighter that put it there.” - -Callously indifferent to the inspector’s sufferings, Thorndyke -continued calmly to examine the bar. At length, resting his lantern -on the wall, he produced his pocket-lens, with which he resumed his -investigation, a proceeding that so exasperated the inspector that -that afflicted official limped off in dudgeon, followed by the -station-master, and we heard him, presently, rapping at the front -door of the house. - -“Give me a slide, Jervis, with a drop of Farrant on it,” said -Thorndyke. “There are some fibres sticking to this bar.” - -I prepared the slide, and, having handed it to him together with a -cover-glass, a pair of forceps and a needle, set up the microscope on -the wall. - -“I’m sorry for the inspector,” Thorndyke remarked, with his eye -applied to the little instrument, “but that was a lucky kick for us. -Just take a look at the specimen.” - -I did so, and, having moved the slide about until I had seen the -whole of the object, I gave my opinion. “Red wool fibres, blue cotton -fibres and some yellow vegetable fibres that look like jute.” - -“Yes,” said Thorndyke; “the same combination of fibres as that which -we found on the dead man’s teeth and probably from the same source. -This bar has probably been wiped on that very curtain or rug with -which poor Brodski was stifled. We will place it on the wall for -future reference, and meanwhile, by hook or by crook, we must get -into that house. This is much too plain a hint to be disregarded.” - -Hastily repacking the case, we hurried to the front of the house, -where we found the two officials looking rather vaguely up the unmade -road. - -“There’s a light in the house,” said the inspector, “but there’s no -one at home. I have knocked a dozen times and got no answer. And I -don’t see what we are hanging about here for at all. The hat is -probably close to where the body was found, and we shall find it in -the morning.” - -Thorndyke made no reply, but, entering the garden, stepped up the -path, and having knocked gently at the door, stooped and listened -attentively at the keyhole. - -“I tell you there’s no one in the house, sir,” said the inspector -irritably; and, as Thorndyke continued to listen, he walked away, -muttering angrily. As soon as he was gone, Thorndyke flashed his -lantern over the door, the threshold, the path and the small -flower-beds; and, from one of the latter, I presently saw him stoop -and pick something up. - -“Here is a highly instructive object, Jervis,” he said, coming out to -the gate, and displaying a cigarette of which only half-an-inch had -been smoked. - -“How instructive?” I asked. “What do you learn from it?” - -“Many things,” he replied. “It has been lit and thrown away unsmoked; -that indicates a sudden change of purpose. It was thrown away at the -entrance to the house, almost certainly by some one entering it. That -person was probably a stranger, or he would have taken it in with -him. But he had not expected to enter the house, or he would not have -lit it. These are the general suggestions; now as to the particular -ones. The paper of the cigarette is of the kind known as the -‘Zig-Zag’ brand; the very conspicuous watermark is quite easy to see. -Now Brodski’s cigarette book was a ‘Zig-Zag’ book--so called from the -way in which the papers pull out. But let us see what the tobacco is -like.” With a pin from his coat, he hooked out from the unburned end -a wisp of dark, dirty brown tobacco, which he held out for my -inspection. - -“Fine-cut Latakia,” I pronounced, without hesitation. - -“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “Here is a cigarette made of an unusual -tobacco similar to that in Brodski’s pouch and wrapped in an unusual -paper similar to those in Brodski’s cigarette book. With due regard -to the fourth rule of the syllogism, I suggest that this cigarette -was made by Oscar Brodski. But, nevertheless, we will look for -corroborative detail.” - -“What is that?” I asked. - -“You may have noticed that Brodski’s match-box contained round wooden -vestas--which are also rather unusual. As he must have lighted the -cigarette within a few steps of the gate, we ought to be able to find -the match with which he lighted it. Let us try up the road in the -direction from which he would probably have approached.” - -We walked very slowly up the road, searching the ground with the -lantern, and we had hardly gone a dozen paces when I espied a match -lying on the rough path and eagerly picked it up. It was a round -wooden vesta. - -Thorndyke examined it with interest and having deposited it, with the -cigarette, in his “collecting-box,” turned to retrace his steps. -“There is now, Jervis, no reasonable doubt that Brodski was murdered -in that house. We have succeeded in connecting that house with the -crime, and now we have got to force an entrance and join up the other -clues.” We walked quickly back to the rear of the premises, where we -found the inspector conversing disconsolately with the station-master. - -“I think, sir,” said the former, “we had better go back now; in fact, -I don’t see what we came here for, but--here! I say, sir, you mustn’t -do that!” For Thorndyke, without a word of warning, had sprung up -lightly and thrown one of his long legs over the wall. - -“I can’t allow you to enter private premises, sir,” continued the -inspector; but Thorndyke quietly dropped down on the inside and -turned to face the officer over the wall. - -“Now, listen to me, inspector,” said he. “I have good reasons for -believing that the dead man, Brodski, has been in this house, in -fact, I am prepared to swear an information to that effect. But time -is precious; we must follow the scent while it is hot. And I am not -proposing to break into the house off-hand. I merely wish to examine -the dust-bin.” - -“The dust-bin!” gasped the inspector. “Well, you really are a most -extraordinary gentleman! What do you expect to find in the dust-bin?” - -“I am looking for a broken tumbler or wine-glass. It is a thin glass -vessel decorated with a pattern of small, eight pointed stars. It may -be in the dust-bin or it may be inside the house.” - -The inspector hesitated, but Thorndyke’s confident manner had -evidently impressed him. - -“We can soon see what is in the dust-bin,” he said, “though what in -creation a broken tumbler has to do with the case is more than I can -understand. However, here goes.” He sprang up onto the wall, and, as -he dropped down into the garden, the station-master and I followed. - -Thorndyke lingered a few moments by the gate examining the ground, -while the two officials hurried up the path. Finding nothing of -interest, however, he walked towards the house, looking keenly about -him as he went; but we were hardly half-way up the path when we heard -the voice of the inspector calling excitedly. - -“Here you are, sir, this way,” he sang out, and, as we hurried -forward, we suddenly came on the two officials standing over a small -rubbish-heap and looking the picture of astonishment. The glare of -their lanterns illuminated the heap, and showed us the scattered -fragments of a thin glass, star-pattern tumbler. - -“I can’t imagine how you guessed it was here, sir,” said the -inspector, with a new-born respect in his tone, “nor what you’re -going to do with it now you have found it.” - -“It is merely another link in the chain of evidence,” said Thorndyke, -taking a pair of forceps from the case and stooping over the heap. -“Perhaps we shall find something else.” He picked up several small -fragments of glass, looked at them closely and dropped them again. -Suddenly his eye caught a small splinter at the base of the heap. -Seizing it with the forceps, he held it close to his eye in the -strong lamplight, and, taking out his lens, examined it with minute -attention. “Yes,” he said at length, “this is what I was looking for. -Let me have those two cards, Jervis.” - -I produced the two visiting-cards with the reconstructed lenses stuck -to them, and, laying them on the lid of the case, threw the light of -the lantern on them. Thorndyke looked at them intently for some time, -and from them to the fragment that he held. Then, turning to the -inspector, he said: “You saw me pick up this splinter of glass?” - -“Yes, sir,” replied the officer. - -“And you saw where we found these spectacle-glasses and know whose -they were?” - -“Yes, sir. They are the dead man’s spectacles, and you found them -where the body had been.” - -“Very well,” said Thorndyke; “now observe;” and, as the two officials -craned forward with parted lips, he laid the little splinter in a gap -in one of the lenses and then gave it a gentle push forward, when it -occupied the gap perfectly, joining edge to edge with the adjacent -fragments and rendering that portion of the lens complete. - -“My God!” exclaimed the inspector. “How on earth did you know?” - -“I must explain that later,” said Thorndyke. “Meanwhile we had better -have a look inside the house. I expect to find there a cigarette--or -possibly a cigar--which has been trodden on, some whole-meal -biscuits, possibly a wooden vesta, and perhaps even the missing hat.” - -At the mention of the hat, the inspector stepped eagerly to the back -door, but, finding it bolted, he tried the window. This also was -securely fastened and, on Thorndyke’s advice, we went round to the -front door. - -“This door is locked too,” said the inspector. “I’m afraid we shall -have to break in. It’s a nuisance, though.” - -“Have a look at the window,” suggested Thorndyke. - -The officer did so, struggling vainly to undo the patent catch with -his pocket-knife. - -“It’s no go,” he said, coming back to the door. “We shall have -to----” He broke off with an astonished stare, for the door stood -open and Thorndyke was putting something in his pocket. - -“Your friend doesn’t waste much time--even in picking a lock,” he -remarked to me, as we followed Thorndyke into the house; but his -reflections were soon merged in a new surprise. Thorndyke had -preceded us into a small sitting-room dimly lighted by a hanging lamp -turned down low. - -As we entered he turned up the light and glanced about the room. A -whisky-bottle was on the table, with a siphon, a tumbler and a -biscuit-box. Pointing to the latter, Thorndyke said to the inspector: -“See what is in that box.” - -The inspector raised the lid and peeped in, the station master peered -over his shoulder, and then both stared at Thorndyke. - -“How in the name of goodness did you know that there were whole-meal -biscuits in the house, sir?” exclaimed the station-master. - -“You’d be disappointed if I told you,” replied Thorndyke. “But look -at this.” He pointed to the hearth, where lay a flattened, -half-smoked cigarette and a round wooden vesta. The inspector gazed -at these objects in silent wonder, while, as to the station-master, -he continued to stare at Thorndyke with what I can only describe as -superstitious awe. - -“You have the dead man’s property with you, I believe?” said my -colleague. - -“Yes,” replied the inspector; “I put the things in my pocket for -safety.” - -“Then,” said Thorndyke, picking up the flattened cigarette, “let us -have a look at his tobacco-pouch.” - -As the officer produced and opened the pouch, Thorndyke neatly cut -open the cigarette with his sharp pocket-knife. “Now,” said he, “what -kind of tobacco is in the pouch?” - -The inspector took out a pinch, looked at it and smelt it -distastefully. “It’s one of those stinking tobaccos,” he said, “that -they put in mixtures--Latakia, I think.” - -“And what is this?” asked Thorndyke, pointing to the open cigarette. - -“Same stuff, undoubtedly,” replied the inspector. - -“And now let us see his cigarette papers,” said Thorndyke. - -The little book, or rather packet--for it consisted of separated -papers--was produced from the officer’s pocket and a sample paper -abstracted. Thorndyke laid the half burnt paper beside it, and the -inspector, having examined the two, held them up to the light. - -“There isn’t much chance of mistaking that ‘Zig-Zag’ watermark,” he -said. “This cigarette was made by the deceased; there can’t be the -shadow of a doubt.” - -“One more point,” said Thorndyke, laying the burnt wooden vesta on -the table. “You have his match-box?” - -The inspector brought forth the little silver casket, opened it and -compared the wooden vestas that it contained with the burnt end. Then -he shut the box with a snap. - -“You’ve proved it up to the hilt,” said he. “If we could only find -the hat, we should have a complete case.” - -“I’m not sure that we haven’t found the hat,” said Thorndyke. “You -notice that something besides coal has been burned in the grate.” - -The inspector ran eagerly to the fire-place and began with feverish -hands, to pick out the remains of the extinct fire. “The cinders are -still warm,” he said, “and they are certainly not all coal cinders. -There has been wood burned here on top of the coal, and these little -black lumps are neither coal nor wood. They may quite possibly be the -remains of a burnt hat, but, lord! who can tell? You can put together -the pieces of broken spectacle-glasses, but you can’t build up a hat -out of a few cinders.” He held out a handful of little, black, spongy -cinders and looked ruefully at Thorndyke, who took them from him and -laid them out on a sheet of paper. - -“We can’t reconstitute the hat, certainly,” my friend agreed, “but we -may be able to ascertain the origin of these remains. They may not be -cinders of a hat, after all.” He lit a wax match and, taking up one -of the charred fragments, applied the flame to it. The cindery mass -fused at once with a crackling, seething sound, emitting a dense -smoke, and instantly the air became charged with a pungent, resinous -odour mingled with the smell of burning animal matter. - -“Smells like varnish,” the station-master remarked. - -“Yes. Shellac,” said Thorndyke; “so the first test gives a positive -result. The next test will take more time.” - -He opened the green case and took from it a little flask, fitted for -Marsh’s arsenic test, with a safety funnel and escape tube, a small -folding tripod, a spirit lamp and a disc of asbestos to serve as a -sand-bath. Dropping into the flask several of the cindery masses, -selected after careful inspection, he filled it up with alcohol and -placed it on the disc, which he rested on the tripod. Then he lighted -the spirit lamp underneath and sat down to wait for the alcohol to -boil. - -“There is one little point that we may as well settle,” he said -presently, as the bubbles began to rise in the flask. “Give me a -slide with a drop of Farrant on it, Jervis.” - -I prepared the slide while Thorndyke, with a pair of forceps, picked -out a tiny wisp from the table-cloth. “I fancy we have seen this -fabric before,” he remarked, as he laid the little pinch of fluff in -the mounting fluid and slipped the slide onto the stage of the -microscope. “Yes,” he continued, looking into the eye-piece, “here -are our old acquaintances, the red wool fibres, the blue cotton and -the yellow jute. We must label this at once or we may confuse it with -the other specimens.” - -“Have you any idea how the deceased met his death?” the inspector -asked. - -“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “I take it that the murderer enticed him -into this room and gave him some refreshments. The murderer sat in -the chair in which you are sitting, Brodski sat in that small -arm-chair. Then I imagine the murderer attacked him with that iron -bar that you found among the nettles, failed to kill him at the first -stroke, struggled with him and finally suffocated him with the -tablecloth. By the way, there is just one more point. You recognize -this piece of string?” He took from his “collecting-box” the little -end of twine that had been picked up by the line. The inspector -nodded. “Look behind you, you will see where it came from.” - -The officer turned sharply and his eye lighted on a string box on the -mantelpiece. He lifted it down, and Thorndyke drew out from it a -length of white twine with one green strand, which he compared with -the piece in his hand. “The green strand in it makes the -identification fairly certain,” he said. “Of course the string was -used to secure the umbrella and hand-bag. He could not have carried -them in his hand, encumbered as he was with the corpse. But I expect -our other specimen is ready now.” He lifted the flask off the tripod, -and, giving it a vigorous shake, examined the contents through his -lens. The alcohol had now become dark-brown in colour, and was -noticeably thicker and more syrupy in consistence. - -“I think we have enough here for a rough test,” said he, selecting a -pipette and a slide from the case. He dipped the former into the -flask and, having sucked up a few drops of the alcohol from the -bottom, held the pipette over the slide on which he allowed the -contained fluid to drop. - -Laying a cover-glass on the little pool of alcohol, he put the slide -on the microscope stage and examined it attentively, while we watched -him in expectant silence. - -At length he looked up, and, addressing the inspector, asked: “Do you -know what felt hats are made of?” - -“I can’t say that I do, sir,” replied the officer. - -“Well, the better quality hats are made of rabbits’ and hares’ -wool--the soft under-fur, you know--cemented together with shellac. -Now there is very little doubt that these cinders contain shellac, -and with the microscope I find a number of small hairs of a rabbit. I -have, therefore, little hesitation in saying that these cinders are -the remains of a hard felt hat; and, as the hairs do not appear to be -dyed, I should say it was a grey hat.” - -At this moment our conclave was interrupted by hurried footsteps on -the garden path and, as we turned with one accord, an elderly woman -burst into the room. - -She stood for a moment in mute astonishment, and then, looking from -one to the other, demanded: “Who are you? and what are you doing -here?” - -The inspector rose. “I am a police officer, madam,” said he. “I can’t -give you any further information just now, but, if you will excuse me -asking, who are you?” - -“I am Mr. Hickler’s housekeeper,” she replied. - -“And Mr. Hickler; are you expecting him home shortly?” - -“No, I am not,” was the curt reply. “Mr. Hickler is away from home -just now. He left this evening by the boat train.” - -“For Amsterdam?” asked Thorndyke. - -“I believe so, though I don’t see what business it is of yours,” the -housekeeper answered. - -“I thought he might, perhaps, be a diamond broker or merchant,” said -Thorndyke. “A good many of them travel by that train.” - -“So he is,” said the woman, “at least, he has something to do with -diamonds.” - -“Ah. Well, we must be going, Jervis,” said Thorndyke, “we have -finished here, and we have to find an hotel or inn. Can I have a word -with you, inspector?” - -The officer, now entirely humble and reverent, followed us out into -the garden to receive Thorndyke’s parting advice. - -“You had better take possession of the house at once, and get rid of -the housekeeper. Nothing must be removed. Preserve those cinders and -see that the rubbish-heap is not disturbed, and, above all, don’t -have the room swept. An officer will be sent to relieve you.” - -With a friendly “good-night” we went on our way, guided by the -station-master; and here our connection with the case came to an end. -Hickler (whose Christian name turned out to be Silas) was, it is -true, arrested as he stepped ashore from the steamer, and a packet of -diamonds, subsequently identified as the property of Oscar Brodski, -found upon his person. But he was never brought to trial, for on the -return voyage he contrived to elude his guards for an instant as the -ship was approaching the English coast, and it was not until three -days later, when a hand-cuffed body was cast up on the lonely shore -by Orfordness, that the authorities knew the fate of Silas Hickler. - -“An appropriate and dramatic end to a singular and yet typical case,” -said Thorndyke, as he put down the newspaper. “I hope it has enlarged -your knowledge, Jervis, and enabled you to form one or two useful -corollaries.” - -“I prefer to hear you sing the medico-legal doxology,” I answered, -turning upon him like the proverbial worm and grinning derisively -(which the worm does not). - -“I know you do,” he retorted, with mock gravity, “and I lament your -lack of mental initiative. However, the points that this case -illustrates are these: First, the danger of delay; the vital -importance of instant action before that frail and fleeting thing -that we call a clue has time to evaporate. A delay of a few hours -would have left us with hardly a single datum. Second, the necessity -of pursuing the most trivial clue to an absolute finish, as -illustrated by the spectacles. Third, the urgent need of a trained -scientist to aid the police; and, last,” he concluded, with a smile, -“we learn never to go abroad without the invaluable green case.” - - - - -A CASE OF PREMEDITATION - - -PART I - -THE ELIMINATION OF MR. PRATT - -The wine merchant who should supply a consignment of _petit vin_ to a -customer who had ordered, and paid for, a vintage wine, would render -himself subject to unambiguous comment. Nay! more; he would be liable -to certain legal penalties. And yet his conduct would be morally -indistinguishable from that of the railway company which, having -accepted a first-class fare, inflicts upon the passenger that kind of -company which he has paid to avoid. But the corporate conscience, as -Herbert Spencer was wont to explain, is an altogether inferior -product to that of the individual. - -Such were the reflections of Mr. Rufus Pembury when, as the train was -about to move out of Maidstone (West) station, a coarse and burly man -(clearly a denizen of the third class) was ushered into his -compartment by the guard. He had paid the higher fare, not for -cushioned seats, but for seclusion or, at least, select -companionship. The man’s entry had deprived him of both, and he -resented it. - -But if the presence of this stranger involved a breach of contract, -his conduct was a positive affront--an indignity; for, no sooner had -the train started than he fixed upon Mr. Pembury a gaze of -impertinent intensity, and continued thereafter to regard him with a -stare as steady and unwinking as that of a Polynesian idol. - -It was offensive to a degree, and highly disconcerting withal. Mr. -Pembury fidgeted in his seat with increasing discomfort and rising -temper. He looked into his pocket book, read one or two letters and -sorted a collection of visiting-cards. He even thought of opening his -umbrella. Finally, his patience exhausted and his wrath mounting to -boiling-point, he turned to the stranger with frosty remonstrance. - -“I imagine, sir, that you will have no difficulty in recognizing me, -should we ever meet again--which God forbid.” - -“I should recognize you among ten thousand,” was the reply, so -unexpected as to leave Mr. Pembury speechless. - -“You see,” the stranger continued impressively, “I’ve got the gift of -faces. I never forget.” - -“That must be a great consolation,” said Pembury. - -“It’s very useful to me,” said the stranger, “at least, it used to -be, when I was a warder at Portland--you remember me, I dare say: my -name is Pratt. I was assistant-warder in your time. God-forsaken -hole, Portland, and mighty glad I was when they used to send me up to -town on reckernizing duty. Holloway was the house of detention then, -you remember; that was before they moved to Brixton.” - -Pratt paused in his reminiscences, and Pembury, pale and gasping with -astonishment, pulled himself together. - -“I think,” said he, “you must be mistaking me for some one else.” - -“I don’t,” replied Pratt. “You’re Francis Dobbs, that’s who you are. -Slipped away from Portland one evening about twelve years ago. -Clothes washed up on the Bill next day. No trace of fugitive. As neat -a mizzle as ever I heard of. But there are a couple of photographs -and a set of finger-prints at the Habitual Criminals Register. -P’r’aps you’d like to come and see ’em?” - -“Why should I go to the Habitual Criminals Register?” Pembury -demanded faintly. - -“Ah! Exactly. Why should you? When you are a man of means, and a -little judiciously invested capital would render it unnecessary?” - -Pembury looked out of the window, and for a minute or more preserved -a stony silence. At length he turned suddenly to Pratt. “How much?” -he asked. - -“I shouldn’t think a couple of hundred a year would hurt you,” was -the calm reply. - -Pembury reflected awhile. “What makes you think I am a man of means?” -he asked presently. - -Pratt smiled grimly. “Bless you, Mr. Pembury,” said he, “I know all -about you. Why, for the last six months I have been living within -half-a-mile of your house.” - -“The devil you have!” - -“Yes. When I retired from the service, General O’Gorman engaged me as -a sort of steward or caretaker of his little place at Baysford--he’s -very seldom there himself--and the very day after I came down, I met -you and spotted you, but, naturally, I kept out of sight myself. -Thought I’d find out whether you were good for anything before I -spoke, so I’ve been keeping my ears open and I find you are good for -a couple of hundred.” - -There was an interval of silence, and then the ex-warder resumed-- - -“That’s what comes of having a memory for faces. Now there’s Jack -Ellis, on the other hand; he must have had you under his nose for a -couple of years, and yet he’s never twigged--he never will either,” -added Pratt, already regretting the confidence into which his vanity -had led him. - -“Who is Jack Ellis?” Pembury demanded sharply. - -“Why, he’s a sort of supernumerary at the Baysford Police Station; -does odd jobs; rural detective, helps in the office and that sort of -thing. He was in the Civil Guard at Portland, in your time, but he -got his left forefinger chopped off, so they pensioned him, and, as -he was a Baysford man, he got this billet. But he’ll never reckernize -you, don’t you fear.” - -“Unless you direct his attention to me,” suggested Pembury. - -“There’s no fear of that,” laughed Pratt. “You can trust me to sit -quiet on my own nest-egg. Besides, we’re not very friendly. He came -nosing round our place after the parlour maid--him a married man, -mark you! But I soon boosted him out, I can tell you; and Jack Ellis -don’t like me now.” - -“I see,” said Pembury reflectively; then, after a pause, he asked: -“Who is this General O’Gorman? I seem to know the name.” - -“I expect you do,” said Pratt. “He was governor of Dartmoor when I -was there--that was my last billet--and, let me tell you, if he’d -been at Portland in your time, you’d never have got away.” - -“How is that?” - -“Why, you see, the general is a great man on bloodhounds. He kept a -pack at Dartmoor and, you bet, those lags knew it. There were no -attempted escapes in those days. They wouldn’t have had a chance.” - -“He has the pack still, hasn’t he?” asked Pembury. - -“Rather. Spends any amount of time on training ’em, too. He’s always -hoping there’ll be a burglary or a murder in the neighbourhood so as -he can try ’em, but he’s never got a chance yet. P’r’aps the crooks -have heard about ’em. But, to come back to our little arrangement: -what do you say to a couple of hundred, paid quarterly, if you like?” - -“I can’t settle the matter off-hand,” said Pembury. “You must give me -time to think it over.” - -“Very well,” said Pratt. “I shall be back at Baysford to-morrow -evening. That will give you a clear day to think it over. Shall I -look in at your place to-morrow night?” - -“No,” replied Pembury; “you’d better not be seen at my house, nor I -at yours. If I meet you at some quiet spot, where we shan’t be seen, -we can settle our business without any one knowing that we have met. -It won’t take long, and we can’t be too careful.” - -“That’s true,” agreed Pratt. “Well, I’ll tell you what. There’s an -avenue leading up to our house; you know it, I expect. There’s no -lodge, and the gates are always ajar, excepting at night. Now I shall -be down by the six-thirty at Baysford. Our place is a quarter of an -hour from the station. Say you meet me in the avenue at a quarter to -seven.” - -“That will suit me,” said Pembury; “that is, if you are sure the -bloodhounds won’t be straying about the grounds.” - -“Lord bless you, no!” laughed Pratt. “D’you suppose the general lets -his precious hounds stray about for any casual crook to feed with -poisoned sausage? No, they’re locked up safe in the kennels at the -back of the house. Hallo! This’ll be Swanley, I expect. I’ll change -into a smoker here and leave you time to turn the matter over in your -mind. So long. To-morrow evening in the avenue at a quarter to seven. -And, I say, Mr. Pembury, you might as well bring the first instalment -with you--fifty, in small notes or gold.” - -“Very well,” said Mr. Pembury. He spoke coldly enough, but there was -a flush on his cheeks and an angry light in his eyes, which, perhaps, -the ex-warder noticed; for when he had stepped out and shut the door, -he thrust his head in at the window and said threateningly-- - -“One more word, Mr. Pembury-Dobbs: no hanky-panky, you know. I’m an -old hand and pretty fly, I am. So don’t you try any chickery-pokery -on me. That’s all.” He withdrew his head and disappeared, leaving -Pembury to his reflections. - -The nature of those reflections, if some telepathist--transferring -his attention for the moment from hidden court-yards or missing -thimbles to more practical matters--could have conveyed them into the -mind of Mr. Pratt, would have caused that quondam official some -surprise and, perhaps, a little disquiet. For long experience of the -criminal, as he appears when in durance, had produced some rather -misleading ideas as to his behaviour when at large. In fact, the -ex-warder had considerably under-estimated the ex-convict. - -Rufus Pembury, to give his real name--for Dobbs was literally a _nom -de guerre_--was a man of strong character and intelligence. So much -so that, having tried the criminal career and found it not worth -pursuing, he had definitely abandoned it. When the cattle-boat that -picked him up off Portland Bill had landed him at an American port, -he brought his entire ability and energy to bear on legitimate -commercial pursuits, and with such success that, at the end of ten -years, he was able to return to England with a moderate competence. -Then he had taken a modest house near the little town of Baysford, -where he had lived quietly on his savings for the last two years, -holding aloof without much difficulty from the rather exclusive local -society; and here he might have lived out the rest of his life in -peace but for the unlucky chance that brought the man Pratt into the -neighbourhood. With the arrival of Pratt his security was utterly -destroyed. - -There is something eminently unsatisfactory about a blackmailer. No -arrangement with him has any permanent validity. No undertaking that -he gives is binding. The thing which he has sold remains in his -possession to sell over again. He pockets the price of emancipation, -but retains the key of the fetters. In short, the blackmailer is a -totally impossible person. - -Such were the considerations that had passed through the mind of -Rufus Pembury, even while Pratt was making his proposals; and those -proposals he had never for an instant entertained. The ex-warder’s -advice to him to “turn the matter over in his mind” was unnecessary. -For his mind was already made up. His decision was arrived at in the -very moment when Pratt had disclosed his identity. The conclusion was -self-evident. Before Pratt appeared he was living in peace and -security. While Pratt remained, his liberty was precarious from -moment to moment. If Pratt should disappear, his peace and security -would return. Therefore Pratt must be eliminated. - -It was a logical consequence. - -The profound meditations, therefore, in which Pembury remained -immersed for the remainder of the journey, had nothing whatever to do -with the quarterly allowance; they were concerned exclusively with -the elimination of ex-warder Pratt. - -Now Rufus Pembury was not a ferocious man. He was not even cruel. But -he was gifted with a certain magnanimous cynicism which ignored the -trivialities of sentiment and regarded only the main issues. If a -wasp hummed over his tea-cup, he would crush that wasp; but not with -his bare hand. The wasp carried the means of aggression. That was the -wasp’s look-out. _His_ concern was to avoid being stung. - -So it was with Pratt. The man had elected, for his own profit, to -threaten Pembury’s liberty. Very well. He had done it at his own -risk. That risk was no concern of Pembury’s. _His_ concern was his -own safety. - -When Pembury alighted at Charing Cross, he directed his steps (after -having watched Pratt’s departure from the station) to Buckingham -Street, Strand, where he entered a quiet private hotel. He was -apparently expected, for the manageress greeted him by his name as -she handed him his key. - -“Are you staying in town, Mr. Pembury?” she asked. - -“No,” was the reply. “I go back tomorrow morning, but I may be coming -up again shortly. By the way, you used to have an encyclopaedia in -one of the rooms. Could I see it for a moment?” - -“It is in the drawing-room,” said the manageress. “Shall I show -you?--but you know the way, don’t you?” - -Certainly Mr. Pembury knew the way. It was on the first floor; a -pleasant old-world room looking on the quiet old street; and on a -shelf, amidst a collection of novels, stood the sedate volumes of -_Chambers’s Encyclopædia_. - -That a gentleman from the country should desire to look up the -subject of “hounds” would not, to a casual observer, have seemed -unnatural. But when from hounds the student proceeded to the article -on blood, and thence to one devoted to perfumes, the observer might -reasonably have felt some surprise; and this surprise might have been -augmented if he had followed Mr. Pembury’s subsequent proceedings, -and specially if he had considered them as the actions of a man whose -immediate aim was the removal of a superfluous unit of the population. - -Having deposited his bag and umbrella in his room, Pembury set forth -from the hotel as one with a definite purpose; and his footsteps led, -in the first place, to an umbrella shop on the Strand, where he -selected a thick rattan cane. There was nothing remarkable in this, -perhaps; but the cane was of an uncomely thickness and the salesman -protested. “I like a thick cane,” said Pembury. - -“Yes, sir; but for a gentleman of your height” (Pembury was a small, -slightly-built man) “I would venture to suggest----” - -“I like a thick cane,” repeated Pembury. “Cut it down to the proper -length and don’t rivet the ferrule on. I’ll cement it on when I get -home.” - -His next investment would have seemed more to the purpose, though -suggestive of unexpected crudity of method. It was a large Norwegian -knife. But not content with this he went on forthwith to a second -cutler’s and purchased a second knife, the exact duplicate of the -first. Now, for what purpose could he want two identically similar -knives? And why not have bought them both at the same shop? It was -highly mysterious. - -Shopping appeared to be a positive mania with Rufus Pembury. In the -course of the next half-hour he acquired a cheap handbag, an artist’s -black-japanned brush-case, a three-cornered file, a stick of elastic -glue and a pair of iron crucible-tongs. Still insatiable, he repaired -to an old-fashioned chemist’s shop in a by-street, where he further -enriched himself with a packet of absorbent cotton-wool and an ounce -of permanganate of potash; and, as the chemist wrapped up these -articles, with the occult and necromantic air peculiar to chemists, -Pembury watched him impassively. - -“I suppose you don’t keep musk?” he asked carelessly. - -The chemist paused in the act of heating a stick of sealing wax, and -appeared as if about to mutter an incantation. But he merely replied: -“No, sir. Not the solid musk; it’s so very costly. But I have the -essence.” - -“That isn’t as strong as the pure stuff, I suppose?” - -“No,” replied the chemist, with a cryptic smile, “not so strong, but -strong enough. These animal perfumes are so very penetrating, you -know; and so lasting. Why, I venture to say that if you were to -sprinkle a table-spoonful of the essence in the middle of St. Paul’s, -the place would smell of it six months hence.” - -“You don’t say so!” said Pembury. “Well, that ought to be enough for -anybody. I’ll take a small quantity, please, and, for goodness’ sake, -see that there isn’t any on the outside of the bottle. The stuff -isn’t for myself, and I don’t want to go about smelling like a civet -cat.” - -“Naturally you don’t, sir,” agreed the chemist. He then produced an -ounce bottle, a small glass funnel and a stoppered bottle labelled -“Ess. Moschi,” with which he proceeded to perform a few trifling -feats of legerdemain. - -“There, sir,” said he, when he had finished the performance, “there -is not a drop on the outside of the bottle, and, if I fit it with a -rubber cork, you will be quite secure.” - -Pembury’s dislike of musk appeared to be excessive, for, when the -chemist had retired into a secret cubicle as if to hold converse with -some familiar spirit (but actually to change half-a-crown), he took -the brush-case from his bag, pulled off its lid, and then, with the -crucible-tongs, daintily lifted the bottle off the counter, slid it -softly into the brush case, and, replacing the lid, returned the case -and tongs to the bag. The other two packets he took from the counter -and dropped into his pocket, and, when the presiding wizard, having -miraculously transformed a single half-crown into four pennies, -handed him the product, he left the shop and walked thoughtfully back -towards the Strand. Suddenly a new idea seemed to strike him. He -halted, considered for a few moments and then strode away northward -to make the oddest of all his purchases. - -The transaction took place in a shop in the Seven Dials, whose -strange stock-in-trade ranged the whole zoological gamut, from -water-snails to Angora cats. Pembury looked at a cage of guinea-pigs -in the window and entered the shop. - -“Do you happen to have a dead guinea-pig?” he asked. - -“No; mine are all alive,” replied the man, adding, with a sinister -grin: “But they’re not immortal, you know.” - -Pembury looked at the man distastefully. There is an appreciable -difference between a guinea-pig and a blackmailer. “Any small mammal -would do,” he said. - -“There’s a dead rat in that cage, if he’s any good,” said the man. -“Died this morning, so he’s quite fresh.” - -“I’ll take the rat,” said Pembury; “he’ll do quite well.” - -The little corpse was accordingly made into a parcel and deposited in -the bag, and Pembury, having tendered a complimentary fee, made his -way back to the hotel. - -After a modest lunch he went forth and spent the remainder of the day -transacting the business which had originally brought him to town. He -dined at a restaurant and did not return to his hotel until ten -o’clock, when he took his key, and tucking under his arm a parcel -that he had brought in with him, retired for the night. But before -undressing--and after locking his door--he did a very strange and -unaccountable thing. Having pulled off the loose ferrule from his -newly-purchased cane, he bored a hole in the bottom of it with the -spike end of the file. Then, using the latter as a broach, he -enlarged the hole until only a narrow rim of the bottom was left. He -next rolled up a small ball of cotton-wool and pushed it into the -ferrule; and having smeared the end of the cane with elastic glue, he -replaced the ferrule, warming it over the gas to make the glue stick. - -When he had finished with the cane, he turned his attention to one of -the Norwegian knives. First, he carefully removed with the file most -of the bright, yellow varnish from the wooden case or handle. - -Then he opened the knife, and, cutting the string of the parcel that -he had brought in, took from it the dead rat which he had bought at -the zoologist’s. Laying the animal on a sheet of paper, he cut off -its head, and, holding it up by the tail, allowed the blood that -oozed from the neck to drop on the knife, spreading it over both -sides of the blade and handle with his finger. - -Then he laid the knife on the paper and softly opened the window. -From the darkness below came the voice of a cat, apparently -perfecting itself in the execution of chromatic Scales; and in that -direction Pembury flung the body and head of the rat, and closed the -window. Finally, having washed his hands and stuffed the paper from -the parcel into the fire-place, he went to bed. - -But his proceedings in the morning were equally mysterious. Having -breakfasted betimes, he returned to his bedroom and locked himself -in. Then he tied his new cane, handle downwards, to the leg of the -dressing-table. Next, with the crucible-tongs, he drew the little -bottle of musk from the brush-case, and, having assured himself, by -sniffing at it, that the exterior was really free from odour, he with -drew the rubber cork. Then, slowly and with infinite care, he poured -a few drops--perhaps half-a-teaspoonful--of the essence on the -cotton-wool that bulged through the hole in the ferrule, watching the -absorbent material narrowly as it soaked up the liquid. When it was -saturated he proceeded to treat the knife in the same fashion, -letting fall a drop of the essence on the wooden handle--which soaked -it up readily. This done, he slid up the window and looked out. -Immediately below was a tiny yard in which grew, or rather survived, -a couple of faded laurel bushes. The body of the rat was nowhere to -be seen; it had apparently been spirited away in the night. Holding -out the bottle, which he still held, he dropped it into the bushes, -flinging the rubber cork after it. - -His next proceeding was to take a tube of vaseline from his -dressing-bag and squeeze a small quantity onto his fingers. With this -he thoroughly smeared the shoulder of the brush case and the inside -of the lid, so as to ensure an airtight joint. Having wiped his -fingers, he picked the knife up with the crucible-tongs, and, -dropping it into the brush-case, immediately pushed on the lid. Then -he heated the tips of the tongs in the gas flame to destroy the -scent, packed the tongs and brush-case in the bag, untied the -cane--carefully avoiding contact with the ferrule--and, taking up the -two bags, went out, holding the cane by its middle. - -There was no difficulty in finding an empty compartment, for -first-class passengers were few at that time in the morning. Pembury -waited on the platform until the guard’s whistle sounded, when he -stepped into the compartment, shut the door and laid the cane on the -seat with its ferrule projecting out of the off-side window, in which -position it remained until the train drew up in Baysford station. - -Pembury left his dressing-bag at the cloak-room, and, still grasping -the cane by its middle, he sallied forth. The town of Baysford lay -some half-a-mile to the east of the station; his own house was a mile -along the road to the west; and half-way between his house and the -station was the residence of General O’Gorman. He knew the place -well. Originally a farmhouse, it stood on the edge of a great expanse -of flat meadows and communicated with the road by an avenue, nearly -three hundred yards long, of ancient trees. The avenue was shut off -from the road by a pair of iron gates, but these were merely -ornamental, for the place was unenclosed and accessible from the -surrounding meadows--indeed, an indistinct footpath crossed the -meadows and intersected the avenue about half-way up. - -On this occasion Pembury, whose objective was the avenue, elected to -approach it by the latter route; and at each stile or fence that he -surmounted, he paused to survey the country. Presently the avenue -arose before him, lying athwart the narrow track, and, as he entered -it between two of the trees, he halted and looked about him. - -He stood listening for a while. Beyond the faint rustle of leaves no -sound was to be heard. Evidently there was no one about, and, as -Pratt was at large, it was probable that the general was absent. - -And now Pembury began to examine the adjacent trees with more than a -casual interest. The two between which he had entered were -respectively an elm and a great pollard oak, the latter being an -immense tree whose huge, warty bole divided about seven feet from the -ground into three limbs, each as large as a fair-sized tree, of which -the largest swept outward in a great curve half-way across the -avenue. On this patriarch Pembury bestowed especial attention, -walking completely round it and finally laying down his bag and cane -(the latter resting on the bag with the ferrule off the ground) that -he might climb up, by the aid of the warty outgrowths, to examine the -crown; and he had just stepped up into the space between the three -limbs, when the creaking of the iron gates was followed by a quick -step in the avenue. Hastily he let himself down from the tree, and, -gathering up his possessions, stood close behind the great bole. - -“Just as well not to be seen,” was his reflection, as he hugged the -tree closely and waited, peering cautiously round the trunk. Soon a -streak of moving shadow heralded the stranger’s approach, and he -moved round to keep the trunk between himself and the intruder. On -the footsteps came, until the stranger was abreast of the tree; and -when he had passed Pembury peeped round at the retreating figure. It -was only the postman, but then the man knew him, and he was glad he -had kept out of sight. - -Apparently the oak did not meet his requirements, for he stepped out -and looked up and down the avenue. Then, beyond the elm, he caught -sight of an ancient pollard hornbeam--a strange, fantastic tree whose -trunk widened out trumpet-like above into a broad crown, from the -edge of which multitudinous branches uprose like the limbs of some -weird hamadryad. - -That tree he approved at a glance, but he lingered behind the oak -until the postman, returning with brisk step and cheerful whistle, -passed down the avenue and left him once more in solitude. Then he -moved on with a resolute air to the hornbeam. - -The crown of the trunk was barely six feet from the ground. He could -reach it easily, as he found on trying. Standing the cane against the -tree--ferrule downwards, this time--he took the brush-case from the -bag, pulled off the lid, and, with the crucible-tongs, lifted out the -knife and laid it on the crown of the tree, just out of sight, -leaving the tongs--also invisible--still grasping the knife. He was -about to replace the brush-case in the bag, when he appeared to alter -his mind. Sniffing at it, and finding it reeking with the sickly -perfume, he pushed the lid on again and threw the case up into the -tree, where he heard it roll down into the central hollow of the -crown. Then he closed the bag, and, taking the cane by its handle, -moved slowly away in the direction whence he had come, passing out of -the avenue between the elm and the oak. - -His mode of progress was certainly peculiar. He walked with excessive -slowness, trailing the cane along the ground, and every few paces he -would stop and press the ferrule firmly against the earth, so that, -to any one who should have observed him, he would have appeared to be -wrapped in an absorbing reverie. - -Thus he moved on across the fields, not, however, returning to the -high road, but crossing another stretch of fields until he emerged -into a narrow lane that led out into the High Street. Immediately -opposite to the lane was the police station, distinguished from the -adjacent cottages only by its lamp, its open door and the notices -pasted up outside. Straight across the road Pembury walked, still -trailing the cane, and halted at the station door to read the -notices, resting his cane on the doorstep as he did so. Through the -open doorway he could see a man writing at a desk. The man’s back was -towards him, but, presently, a movement brought his left hand into -view, and Pembury noted that the forefinger was missing. This, then, -was Jack Ellis, late of the Civil Guard at Portland. - -Even while he was looking the man turned his head, and Pembury -recognized him at once. He had frequently met him on the road between -Baysford and the adjoining village of Thorpe, and always at the same -time. Apparently Ellis paid a daily visit to Thorpe--perhaps to -receive a report from the rural constable--and he started between -three and four and returned between seven and a quarter past. - -Pembury looked at his watch. It was a quarter past three. He moved -away thoughtfully (holding his cane, now, by the middle), and began -to walk slowly in the direction of Thorpe--westward. - -For a while he was deeply meditative, and his face wore a puzzled -frown. Then, suddenly, his face cleared and he strode forward at a -brisker pace. Presently he passed through a gap in the hedge, and, -walking in a field parallel with the road, took out his purse--a -small pigskin pouch. Having frugally emptied it of its contents, -excepting a few shillings, he thrust the ferrule of his cane into the -small compartment ordinarily reserved for gold or notes. - -And thus he continued to walk on slowly, carrying the cane by the -middle and the purse jammed on the end. - -At length he reached a sharp double curve in the road whence he could -see back for a considerable distance; and here opposite a small -opening, he sat down to wait. The hedge screened him effectually from -the gaze of passers-by--though these were few enough--without -interfering with his view. - -A quarter of an hour passed. He began to be uneasy. Had he been -mistaken? Were Ellis’s visits only occasional instead of daily, as he -had thought? That would be tiresome though not actually disastrous. -But at this point in his reflections a figure came into view, -advancing along the road with a steady swing. He recognized the -figure. It was Ellis. - -But there was another figure advancing from the opposite direction: a -labourer, apparently. He prepared to shift his ground, but another -glance showed him that the labourer would pass first. He waited. The -labourer came on and, at length, passed the opening, and, as he did -so, Ellis disappeared for a moment in a bend of the road. Instantly -Pembury passed his cane through the opening in the hedge, shook off -the purse and pushed it into the middle of the foot way. Then he -crept forward, behind the hedge, towards the approaching official, -and again sat down to wait. On came the steady tramp of the -unconscious Ellis, and, as it passed, Pembury drew aside an -obstructing branch and peered out at the retreating figure. The -question now was, would Ellis see the purse? It was not a very -conspicuous object. - -The footsteps stopped abruptly. Looking out, Pembury saw the police -official stoop, pick up the purse, examine its contents and finally -stow it in his trousers pocket. Pembury heaved a sigh of relief; and, -as the dwindling figure passed out of sight round a curve in the -road, he rose, stretched himself and strode away briskly. - -Near the gap was a group of ricks, and, as he passed them, a fresh -idea suggested itself. Looking round quickly he passed to the farther -side of one and, thrusting his cane deeply into it, pushed it home -with a piece of stick that he picked up near the rick, until the -handle was lost among the straw. The bag was now all that was left, -and it was empty--for his other purchases were in the dressing-bag, -which, by the way, he must fetch from the station. He opened it and -smelt the interior, but, though he could detect no odour, he resolved -to be rid of it if possible. - -As he emerged from the gap a wagon jogged slowly past. It was piled -high with sacks, and the tail-board was down. Stepping into the road, -he quickly overtook the wagon, and, having glanced round, laid the -bag lightly on the tail-board. Then he set off for the station. - -On arriving home he went straight up to his bedroom, and, ringing for -his housekeeper, ordered a substantial meal. Then he took off his -clothes and deposited them, even to his shirt, socks and necktie, in -a trunk, wherein his summer clothing was stored with a plentiful -sprinkling of naphthol to preserve it from the moth. Taking the -packet of permanganate of potash from his dressing-bag, he passed -into the adjoining bathroom, and, tipping the crystals into the bath, -turned on the water. Soon the bath was filled with a pink solution of -the salt, and into this he plunged, immersing his entire body and -thoroughly soaking his hair. Then he emptied the bath and rinsed -himself in clear water, and, having dried himself, returned to the -bedroom and dressed himself in fresh clothing. Finally he took a -hearty meal, and then lay down on the sofa to rest until it should be -time to start for the rendezvous. - -Half-past six found him lurking in the shadow by the -station-approach, within sight of the solitary lamp. He heard the -train come in, saw the stream of passengers emerge, and noted one -figure detach itself from the throng and turn on to the Thorpe road. -It was Pratt, as the lamp light showed him; Pratt, striding forward -to the meeting-place with an air of jaunty satisfaction and an -uncommonly creaky pair of boots. - -Pembury followed him at a safe distance, and rather by sound than -sight, until he was well past the stile at the entrance to the -footpath. Evidently he was going on to the gates. Then Pembury -vaulted over the stile and strode away swiftly across the dark -meadows. - -When he plunged into the deep gloom of the avenue, his first act was -to grope his way to the hornbeam and slip his hand up onto the crown -and satisfy himself that the tongs were as he had left them. -Reassured by the touch of his fingers on the iron loops, he turned -and walked slowly down the avenue. The duplicate knife--ready -opened--was in his left inside breast-pocket, and he fingered its -handle as he walked. - -Presently the iron gate squeaked mournfully, and then the rhythmical -creak of a pair of boots was audible, coming up the avenue. Pembury -walked forward slowly until a darker smear emerged from the -surrounding gloom, when he called out---- - -“Is that you, Pratt?” - -“That’s me,” was the cheerful, if ungrammatical response, and, as he -drew nearer, the ex-warder asked: “Have you brought the rhino, old -man?” - -The insolent familiarity of the man’s tone was agreeable to Pembury: -it strengthened his nerve and hardened his heart. “Of course,” he -replied; “but we must have a definite understanding, you know.” - -“Look here,” said Pratt, “I’ve got no time for jaw. The General will -be here presently; he’s riding over from Bingfield with a friend. You -hand over the dibs and we’ll talk some other time.” - -“That is all very well,” said Pembury, “but you must understand----” -He paused abruptly and stood still. They were now close to the -hornbeam, and, as he stood, he stared up into the dark mass of -foliage. - -“What’s the matter?” demanded Pratt. “What are you staring at?” He, -too, had halted and stood gazing intently into the darkness. - -Then, in an instant, Pembury whipped out the knife and drove it, with -all his strength, into the broad back of the ex-warder, below the -left shoulder-blade. - -With a hideous yell Pratt turned and grappled with his assailant. A -powerful man and a competent wrestler, too, he was far more than a -match for Pembury unarmed, and, in a moment, he had him by the -throat. But Pembury clung to him tightly, and, as they trampled to -and fro and round and round, he stabbed again and again with the -viciousness of a Scorpion, while Pratt’s cries grew more gurgling and -husky. Then they fell heavily to the ground, Pembury underneath. But -the struggle was over. With a last bubbling groan, Pratt relaxed his -hold and in a moment grew limp and inert. Pembury pushed him off and -rose, trembling and breathing heavily. - -But he wasted no time. There had been more noise than he had -bargained for. Quickly stepping up to the hornbeam, he reached up for -the tongs. His fingers slid into the looped handles; the tongs -grasped the knife, and he lifted it out from its hiding-place and -carried it to where the corpse lay, depositing it on the ground a few -feet from the body. Then he went back to the tree and carefully -pushed the tongs over into the hollow of the crown. - -At this moment a woman’s voice sounded shrilly from the top of the -avenue. - -“Is that you, Mr. Pratt?” it called. - -Pembury started and then stepped back quickly, on tiptoe, to the -body. For there was the duplicate knife. He must take that away at -all costs. - -The corpse was lying on its back. The knife was underneath it, driven -in to the very haft. He had to use both hands to lift the body, and -even then he had some difficulty in disengaging the weapon. And, -meanwhile, the voice, repeating its question, drew nearer. - -At length he succeeded in drawing out the knife and thrust it into -his breast-pocket. The corpse fell back, and he stood up gasping. - -“Mr. Pratt! Are you there?” The nearness of the voice startled -Pembury, and, turning sharply, he saw a light twinkling between the -trees. And then the gates creaked loudly and he heard the crunch of a -horse’s hoofs on the gravel. - -He stood for an instant bewildered--utterly taken by surprise. He had -not reckoned on a horse. His intended flight across the meadows -towards Thorpe was now impracticable. If he were overtaken he was -lost, for he knew there was blood on his clothes and his hands were -wet and slippery--to say nothing of the knife in his pocket. - -But his confusion lasted only for an instant. He remembered the oak -tree; and, turning out of the avenue, he ran to it, and, touching it -as little as he could with his bloody hands, climbed quickly up into -the crown. The great horizontal limb was nearly three feet in -diameter, and, as he lay out on it, gathering his coat closely round -him, he was quite invisible from below. - -He had hardly settled himself when the light which he had seen came -into full view, revealing a woman advancing with a stable lantern in -her hand. And, almost at the same moment, a streak of brighter light -burst from the opposite direction. The horseman was accompanied by a -man on a bicycle. - -The two men came on apace, and the horseman, sighting the woman, -called out: “Anything the matter, Mrs. Parton?” But, at that moment, -the light of the bicycle lamp fell full on the prostrate corpse. The -two men uttered a simultaneous cry of horror; the woman shrieked -aloud: and then the horseman sprang from the saddle and ran forward -to the body. - -“Why,” he exclaimed, stooping over it, “it’s Pratt;” and, as the -cyclist came up and the glare of his lamp shone on a great pool of -blood, he added: “There’s been foul play here, Hanford.” - -Hanford flashed his lamp around the body, lighting up the ground for -several yards. - -“What is that behind you, O’Gorman?” he said suddenly; “isn’t it a -knife?” He was moving quickly towards it when O’Gorman held up his -hand. - -“Don’t touch it!” he exclaimed. “We’ll put the hounds onto it. -They’ll soon track the scoundrel, whoever he is. By God! Hanford, -this fellow has fairly delivered himself into our hands.” He stood -for a few moments looking down at the knife with something uncommonly -like exultation, and then, turning quickly to his friend, said: “Look -here, Hanford; you ride off to the police station as hard as you can -pelt. It is only three-quarters of a mile; you’ll do it in five -minutes. Send or bring an officer and I’ll scour the meadows -meanwhile. If I haven’t got the scoundrel when you come back, we’ll -put the hounds onto this knife and run the beggar down.” - -“Right,” replied Hanford, and without another word he wheeled his -machine about, mounted and rode away into the darkness. - -“Mrs. Parton,” said O’Gorman, “watch that knife. See that nobody -touches it while I go and examine the meadows.” - -“Is Mr. Pratt dead, sir?” whimpered Mrs. Parton. - -“Gad! I hadn’t thought of that,” said the general. “You’d better have -a look at him; but mind! nobody is to touch that knife or they will -confuse the scent.” - -He scrambled into the saddle and galloped away across the meadows in -the direction of Thorpe; and, as Pembury listened to the diminuendo -of the horse’s hoofs, he was glad that he had not attempted to -escape; for that was the direction in which he had meant to go, and -he would surely have been overtaken. - -As soon as the general was gone, Mrs. Parton, with many a -terror-stricken glance over her shoulder, approached the corpse and -held the lantern close to the dead face. Suddenly she stood up, -trembling violently, for footsteps were audible coming down the -avenue. A familiar voice reassured her. - -“Is anything wrong, Mrs. Parton?” The question proceeded from one of -the maids who had come in search of the elder woman, escorted by a -young man, and the pair now came out into the circle of light. - -“Good God!” ejaculated the man. “Who’s that?” - -“It’s Mr. Pratt,” replied Mrs. Parton. “He’s been murdered.” - -The girl screamed, and then the two domestics approached on tiptoe, -staring at the corpse with the fascination of horror. - -“Don’t touch that knife,” said Mrs. Parton, for the man was about to -pick it up. “The general’s going to put the bloodhounds onto it.” - -“Is the general here, then?” asked the man; and, as he spoke, the -drumming of hoofs, growing momentarily louder, answered him from the -meadow. - -O’Gorman reined in his horse as he perceived the group of servants -gathered about the corpse. “Is he dead, Mrs. Parton?” he asked. - -“I am afraid so, sir,” was the reply. - -“Ha! Somebody ought to go for the doctor; but not you, Bailey. I want -you to get the hounds ready and wait with them at the top of the -avenue until I call you.” - -He was off again into the Baysford meadows, and Bailey hurried away, -leaving the two women staring at the body and talking in whispers. - -Pembury’s position was cramped and uncomfortable. He dared not move, -hardly dared to breathe, for the women below him were not a dozen -yards away; and it was with mingled feelings of relief and -apprehension that he presently saw from his elevated station a group -of lights approaching rapidly along the road from Baysford. Presently -they were hidden by the trees, and then, after a brief interval, the -whirr of wheels sounded on the drive and streaks of light on the -tree-trunks announced the new arrivals. There were three bicycles, -ridden respectively by Mr. Hanford, a police inspector and a -sergeant; and, as they drew up, the general came thundering back into -the avenue. - -“Is Ellis with you?” he asked, as he pulled up. - -“No, sir,” was the reply. “He hadn’t come in from Thorpe when we -left. He’s rather late to-night.” - -“Have you sent for a doctor?” - -“Yes, sir, I’ve sent for Dr. Hills,” said the inspector, resting his -bicycle against the oak. Pembury could smell the reek of the lamp as -he crouched. “Is Pratt dead?” - -“Seems to be,” replied O’Gorman, “but we’d better leave that to the -doctor. There’s the murderer’s knife. Nobody has touched it. I’m -going to fetch the bloodhounds now.” - -“Ah! that’s the thing,” said the inspector. “The man can’t be far -away.” He rubbed his hands with a satisfied air as O’Gorman cantered -away up the avenue. - -In less than a minute there came out from the darkness the deep -baying of a hound followed by quick footsteps on the gravel. Then -into the circle of light emerged three sinister shapes, loose-limbed -and gaunt, and two men advancing at a shambling trot. - -“Here, inspector,” shouted the general, “you take one; I can’t hold -‘em both.” - -The inspector ran forward and seized one of the leashes, and the -general led his hound up to the knife, as it lay on the ground. -Pembury, peering cautiously round the bough, watched the great brute -with almost impersonal curiosity; noted its high poll, its wrinkled -forehead and melancholy face as it stooped to snuff suspiciously at -the prostrate knife. - -For some moments the hound stood motionless, sniffing at the knife; -then it turned away and walked to and fro with its muzzle to the -ground. Suddenly it lifted its head, bayed loudly, lowered its muzzle -and started forward between the oak and the elm, dragging the general -after it at a run. - -The inspector next brought his hound to the knife, and was soon -bounding away to the tug of the leash in the general’s wake. - -“They don’t make no mistakes, they don’t,” said Bailey, addressing -the gratified sergeant, as he brought forward the third hound; -“you’ll see--” But his remark was cut short by a violent jerk of the -leash, and the next moment he was flying after the others, followed -by Mr. Hanford. - -The sergeant daintily picked the knife up by its ring, wrapped it in -his handkerchief and bestowed it in his pocket. Then he ran off after -the hounds. - -Pembury smiled grimly. His scheme was working out admirably in spite -of the unforeseen difficulties. If those confounded women would only -go away, he could come down and take himself off while the course was -clear. He listened to the baying of the hounds, gradually growing -fainter in the increasing distance, and cursed the dilatoriness of -the doctor. Confound the fellow! Didn’t he realize that this was a -case of life or death? - -Suddenly his ear caught the tinkle of a bicycle bell; a fresh light -appeared coming up the avenue and then a bicycle swept up swiftly to -the scene of the tragedy, and a small elderly man jumped down by the -side of the body. Giving his machine to Mrs. Parton, he stooped over -the dead man, felt the wrist, pushed back an eyelid, held a match to -the eye and then rose. “This is a shocking affair, Mrs. Parton,” said -he. “The poor fellow is quite dead. You had better help me to carry -him to the house. If you two take the feet I will take the shoulders.” - -Pembury watched them raise the body and stagger away with it up the -avenue. He heard their shuffling steps die away and the door of the -house shut. And still he listened. From far away in the meadows came, -at intervals, the baying of the hounds. Other sounds there was none. -Presently the doctor would come back for his bicycle, but, for the -moment, the coast was clear. Pembury rose stiffly. His hands had -stuck to the tree where they had pressed against it, and they were -still sticky and damp. Quickly he let himself down to the ground, -listened again for a moment, and then, making a small circuit to -avoid the lamplight, softly crossed the avenue and stole away across -the Thorpe meadows. - -The night was intensely dark, and not a soul was stirring in the -meadows. He strode forward quickly, peering into the darkness and -stopping now and again to listen; but no sound came to his ears, save -the now faint baying of the distant hounds. Not far from his house, -he remembered, was a deep ditch spanned by a wooden bridge, and -towards this he now made his way; for he knew that his appearance was -such as to convict him at a glance. Arrived at the ditch, he stooped -to wash his hands and wrists; and, as he bent forward, the knife fell -from his breast-pocket into the shallow water at the margin. He -groped for it, and, having found it, drove it deep into the mud as -far out as he could reach. Then he wiped his hands on some -water-weed, crossed the bridge and started homewards. - -He approached his house from the rear, satisfied himself that his -housekeeper was in the kitchen, and, letting himself in very quietly -with his key, went quickly up to his bedroom. Here he washed -thoroughly--in the bath, so that he could get rid of the discoloured -water--changed his clothes and packed those that he took off in a -portmanteau. - -By the time he had done this the gong sounded for supper. As he took -his seat at the table, spruce and fresh in appearance, quietly -cheerful in manner, he addressed his house keeper. “I wasn’t able to -finish my business in London,” he said. “I shall have to go up again -tomorrow.” - -“Shall you come home the same day?” asked the housekeeper. - -“Perhaps,” was the reply, “and perhaps not. It will depend on -circumstances.” - -He did not say what the circumstances might be, nor did the -housekeeper ask. Mr. Pembury was not addicted to confidences. He was -an eminently discreet man: and discreet men say little. - - -PART II - -RIVAL SLEUTH-HOUNDS - -(_Related by Christopher Jervis, M.D._) - -The half-hour that follows breakfast, when the fire has, so to speak, -got into its stride, and the morning pipe throws up its clouds of -incense, is, perhaps, the most agreeable in the whole day. Especially -so when a sombre sky, brooding over the town, hints at streets -pervaded by the chilly morning air, and hoots from protesting tugs -upon the river tell of lingering mists, the legacy of the -lately-vanished night. - -The autumn morning was raw: the fire burned jovially. I thrust my -slippered feet towards the blaze and meditated, on nothing in -particular, with catlike enjoyment. Presently a disapproving grunt -from Thorndyke attracted my attention, and I looked round lazily. He -was extracting, with a pair of office shears, the readable portions -of the morning paper, and had paused with a small cutting between his -finger and thumb. “Bloodhounds again,” said he. “We shall be hearing -presently of the revival of the ordeal by fire.” - -“And a deuced comfortable ordeal, too, on a morning like this,” I -said, stroking my legs ecstatically. “What is the case?” - -He was about to reply when a sharp rat-tat from the little brass -knocker announced a disturber of our peace. Thorndyke stepped over to -the door and admitted a police inspector in uniform, and I stood up, -and, presenting my dorsal aspect to the fire, prepared to combine -bodily comfort with attention to business. - -“I believe I am speaking to Dr. Thorndyke,” said the officer, and, as -Thorndyke nodded, he went on: “My name, sir, is Fox, Inspector Fox of -the Baysford Police. Perhaps you’ve seen the morning paper?” - -Thorndyke held up the cutting, and, placing a chair by the fire, -asked the inspector if he had breakfasted. - -“Thank you, sir, I have,” replied Inspector Fox. “I came up to town -by the late train last night so as to be here early, and stayed at an -hotel. You see, from the paper, that we have had to arrest one of our -own men. That’s rather awkward, you know, sir.” - -“Very,” agreed Thorndyke. - -“Yes; it’s bad for the force and bad for the public too. But we had -to do it. There was no way out that we could see. Still, we should -like the accused to have every chance, both for our sake and his own, -so the chief constable thought he’d like to have your opinion on the -case, and he thought that, perhaps, you might be willing to act for -the defence.” - -“Let us have the particulars,” said Thorndyke, taking a writing-pad -from a drawer and dropping into his armchair. “Begin at the -beginning,” he added, “and tell us all you know.” - -“Well,” said the inspector, after a preliminary cough, “to begin with -the murdered man: his name is Pratt. He was a retired prison warder, -and was employed as steward by General O’Gorman, who is a retired -prison governor--you may have heard of him in connection with his -pack of blood hounds. Well, Pratt came down from London yesterday -evening by a train arriving at Baysford at six-thirty. He was seen by -the guard, the ticket collector and the outside porter. The porter -saw him leave the station at six-thirty-seven. General O’Gorman’s -house is about half-a-mile from the station. At five minutes to seven -the general and a gentleman named Hanford and the general’s -housekeeper, a Mrs. Parton, found Pratt lying dead in the avenue that -leads up to the house. He had apparently been stabbed, for there was -a lot of blood about, and a knife--a Norwegian knife--was lying on -the ground near the body. Mrs. Parton had thought she heard some one -in the avenue calling out for help, and, as Pratt was just due, she -came out with a lantern. She met the general and Mr. Hanford, and all -three seem to have caught sight of the body at the same moment. Mr. -Hanford cycled down to us, at once, with the news; we sent for a -doctor, and I went back with Mr. Hanford and took a sergeant with me. -We arrived at twelve minutes past seven, and then the general, who -had galloped his horse over the meadows each side of the avenue -without having seen anybody, fetched out his bloodhounds and led them -up to the knife. All three hounds took up the scent at once--I held -the leash of one of them--and they took us across the meadows without -a pause or a falter, over stiles and fences, along a lane, out into -the town, and then, one after the other, they crossed the road in a -bee-line to the police station, bolted in at the door, which stood -open, and made straight for the desk, where a supernumerary officer, -named Ellis, was writing. They made a rare to-do, struggling to get -at him, and it was as much as we could manage to hold them back. As -for Ellis, he turned as pale as a ghost.” - -“Was any one else in the room?” asked Thorndyke. - -“Oh, yes. There were two constables and a messenger. We led the -hounds up to them, but the brutes wouldn’t take any notice of them. -They wanted Ellis.” - -“And what did you do?” - -“Why, we arrested Ellis, of course. Couldn’t do anything -else--especially with the general there.” - -“What had the general to do with it?” asked Thorndyke. - -“He’s a J.P. and a late governor of Dartmoor, and it was his hounds -that had run the man down. But we must have arrested Ellis in any -case.” - -“Is there anything against the accused man?” - -“Yes, there is. He and Pratt were on distinctly unfriendly terms. -They were old comrades, for Ellis was in the Civil Guard at Portland -when Pratt was warder there--he was pensioned off from the service -because he got his left forefinger chopped off--but lately they had -had some unpleasantness about a woman, a parlourmaid of the -general’s. It seems that Ellis, who is a married man, paid the girl -too much attention--or Pratt thought he did--and Pratt warned Ellis -off the premises. Since then they had not been on speaking terms.” - -“And what sort of a man is Ellis?” - -“A remarkably decent fellow he always seemed; quiet, steady, -good-natured; I should have said he wouldn’t have hurt a fly. We all -liked him--better than we liked Pratt, in fact; poor Pratt was what -you’d call an old soldier--sly, you know, sir--and a bit of a sneak.” - -“You searched and examined Ellis, of course?” - -“Yes. There was nothing suspicious about him except that he had two -purses. But he says he picked up one of them--a small, pigskin -pouch--on the footpath of the Thorpe road yesterday afternoon; and -there’s no reason to disbelieve him. At any rate, the purse was not -Pratt’s.” - -Thorndyke made a note on his pad, and then asked: “There were no -bloodstains or marks on his clothing?” - -“No. His clothing was not marked or disarranged in any way.” - -“Any cuts, scratches or bruises on his person?” - -“None whatever,” replied the inspector. - -“At what time did you arrest Ellis?” - -“Half-past seven exactly.” - -“Have you ascertained what his movements were? Had he been near the -scene of the murder?” - -“Yes; he had been to Thorpe and would pass the gates of the avenue on -his way back. And he was later than usual in returning, though not -later than he has often been before.” - -“And now, as to the murdered man: has the body been examined?” - -“Yes; I had Dr. Hills’s report before I left. There were no less than -seven deep knife-wounds, all on the left side of the back. There was -a great deal of blood on the ground, and Dr. Hills thinks Pratt must -have bled to death in a minute or two.” - -“Do the wounds correspond with the knife that was found?” - -“I asked the doctor that, and he said ‘Yes,’ though he wasn’t going -to swear to any particular knife. However, that point isn’t of much -importance. The knife was covered with blood, and it was found close -to the body.” - -“What has been done with it, by the way?” asked Thorndyke. - -“The sergeant who was with me picked it up and rolled it in his -handkerchief to carry in his pocket. I took it from him, just as it -was, and locked it in a dispatch-box.” - -“Has the knife been recognized as Ellis’s property?” - -“No, sir, it has not.” - -“Were there any recognizable footprints or marks of a struggle?” -Thorndyke asked. - -The inspector grinned sheepishly. “I haven’t examined the spot, of -course, sir,” said he, “but, after the general’s horse and the -bloodhounds and the general on foot and me and the gardener and the -sergeant and Mr. Hanford had been over it twice, going and returning, -why, you see, sir---- - -“Exactly, exactly,” said Thorndyke. “Well, inspector, I shall be -pleased to act for the defence; it seems to me that the case against -Ellis is in some respects rather inconclusive.” - -The inspector was frankly amazed. “It certainly hadn’t struck me in -that light, sir,” he said. - -“No? Well, that is my view; and I think the best plan will be for me -to come down with you and investigate matters on the spot.” - -The inspector assented cheerfully, and, when we had provided him with -a newspaper, we withdrew to the laboratory to consult time-tables and -prepare for the expedition. - -“You are coming, I suppose, Jervis?” said Thorndyke. - -“If I shall be of any use,” I replied. - -“Of course you will,” said he. “Two heads are better than one, and, -by the look of things, I should say that ours will be the only ones -with any sense in them. We will take the research case, of course, -and we may as well have a camera with us. I see there is a train from -Charing Cross in twenty minutes.” - -For the first half-hour of the journey Thorndyke sat in his corner, -alternately conning over his notes and gazing with thoughtful eyes -out of the window. I could see that the case pleased him, and was -careful not to break in upon his train of thought. Presently, -however, he put away his notes and began to fill his pipe with a more -companionable air, and then the inspector, who had been wriggling -with impatience, opened fire. - -“So you think, sir, that you see a way out for Ellis?” - -“I think there is a case for the defence,” replied Thorndyke. “In -fact, I call the evidence against him rather flimsy.” - -The inspector gasped. “But the knife, sir? What about the knife?” - -“Well,” said Thorndyke, “what about the knife? Whose knife was it? -You don’t know. It was covered with blood. Whose blood? You don’t -know. Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that it was the -murderer’s knife. Then the blood on it was Pratt’s blood. But if it -was Pratt’s blood, when the hounds had smelt it they should have led -you to Pratt’s body, for blood gives a very strong scent. But they -did not. They ignored the body. The inference seems to be that the -blood on the knife was not Pratt’s blood.” - -The inspector took off his cap and gently scratched the back of his -head. “You’re perfectly right, sir,” he said. “I’d never thought of -that. None of us had.” - -“Then,” pursued Thorndyke, “let us assume that the knife was Pratt’s. -If so, it would seem to have been used in self-defence. But this was -a Norwegian knife, a clumsy tool--not a weapon at all--which takes an -appreciable time to open and requires the use of two free hands. Now, -had Pratt both hands free? Certainly not after the attack had -commenced. There were seven wounds, all on the left side of the back; -which indicates that he held the murderer locked in his arms and that -the murderer’s arms were around him. Also, incidentally, that the -murderer is right-handed. But, still, let us assume that the knife -was Pratt’s. Then the blood on it was that of the murderer. Then the -murderer must have been wounded. But Ellis was not wounded. Then -Ellis is not the murderer. The knife doesn’t help us at all.” - -The inspector puffed out his cheeks and blew softly. “This is getting -out of my depth,” he said. “Still, sir, you can’t get over the -bloodhounds. They tell us distinctly that the knife is Ellis’s knife -and I don’t see any answer to that.” - -“There is no answer because there has been no statement. The -bloodhounds have told you nothing. You have drawn certain inferences -from their actions, but those inferences may be totally wrong and -they are certainly not evidence.” - -“You don’t seem to have much opinion of bloodhounds,” the inspector -remarked. - -“As agents for the detection of crime,” replied Thorndyke, “I regard -them as useless. You cannot put a bloodhound in the witness-box. You -can get no intelligible statement from it. If it possesses any -knowledge, it has no means of communicating it. The fact is,” he -continued, “that the entire system of using bloodhounds for criminal -detection is based on a fallacy. In the American plantations these -animals were used with great success for tracking runaway slaves. But -the slave was a known individual. All that was required was to -ascertain his whereabouts. That is not the problem that is presented -in the detection of a crime. The detective is not concerned in -establishing the whereabouts of a known individual, but in -discovering the identity of an unknown individual. And for this -purpose bloodhounds are useless. They may discover such identity, but -they cannot communicate their knowledge. If the criminal is unknown -they cannot identify him: if he is known, the police have no need of -the bloodhound. - -“To return to our present case,” Thorndyke resumed, after a pause; -“we have employed certain agents--the hounds--with whom we are not -_en rapport_, as the spiritualists would say; and we have no -‘medium.’ The hound possesses a special sense--the olfactory--which -in man is quite rudimentary. He thinks, so to speak, in terms of -smell, and his thoughts are untranslatable to beings in whom the -sense of smell is undeveloped. We have presented to the hound a -knife, and he discovers in it certain odorous properties; he -discovers similar or related odorous properties in a tract of land -and a human individual--Ellis. We cannot verify his discoveries or -ascertain their nature. What remains? All that we can say is that -there appears to exist some odorous relation between the knife and -the man Ellis. But until we can ascertain the nature of that -relation, we cannot estimate its evidential value or bearing. All the -other ‘evidence’ is the product of your imagination and that of the -general. There is, at present, no case against Ellis.” - -“He must have been pretty close to the place when the murder -happened,” said the inspector. - -“So, probably, were many other people,” answered Thorndyke; “but had -he time to wash and change? Because he would have needed it.” - -“I suppose he would,” the inspector agreed dubiously. - -“Undoubtedly. There were seven wounds which would have taken some -time to inflict. Now we can’t suppose that Pratt stood passively -while the other man stabbed him--indeed, as I have said, the position -of the wounds shows that he did not. There was a struggle. The two -men were locked together. One of the murderer’s hands was against -Pratt’s back; probably both hands were, one clasping and the other -stabbing. There must have been blood on one hand and probably on -both. But you say there was no blood on Ellis, and there doesn’t seem -to have been time or opportunity for him to wash.” - -“Well, it’s a mysterious affair,” said the inspector; “but I don’t -see how you are going to get over the bloodhounds.” - -Thorndyke shrugged his shoulders impatiently. “The bloodhounds are an -obsession,” he said. “The whole problem really centres around the -knife. The questions are, Whose knife was it? and what was the -connection between it and Ellis? There is a problem, Jervis,” he -continued, turning to me, “that I submit for your consideration. Some -of the possible solutions are exceedingly curious.” - -As we set out from Baysford station, Thorndyke looked at his watch -and noted the time. “You will take us the way that Pratt went,” he -said. - -“As to that,” said the inspector, “he may have gone by the road or by -the footpath; but there’s very little difference in the distance.” - -Turning away from Baysford, we walked along the road westward, -towards the village of Thorpe, and presently passed on our right a -stile at the entrance to a footpath. - -“That path,” said the inspector, “crosses the avenue about half-way -up. But we’d better keep to the road.” A quarter of a mile further on -we came to a pair of rusty iron gates one of which stood open, and, -entering, we found ourselves in a broad drive bordered by two rows of -trees, between the trunks of which a long stretch of pasture meadows -could be seen on either hand. It was a fine avenue, and, late in the -year as it was, the yellowing foliage clustered thickly overhead. - -When we had walked about a hundred and fifty yards from the gates, -the inspector halted. - -“This is the place,” he said; and Thorndyke again noted the time. - -“Nine minutes exactly,” said he. “Then Pratt arrived here about -fourteen minutes to seven, and his body was found at five minutes to -seven--nine minutes after his arrival. The murderer couldn’t have -been far away then.” - -“No, it was a pretty fresh scent,” replied the inspector. “You’d like -to see the body first, I think you said, sir?” - -“Yes; and the knife, if you please.” - -“I shall have to send down to the station for that. It’s locked up in -the office.” - -He entered the house, and, having dispatched a messenger to the -police station, came out and conducted us to the outbuilding where -the corpse had been deposited. Thorndyke made a rapid examination of -the wounds and the holes in the clothing, neither of which presented -anything particularly suggestive. The weapon used had evidently been -a thick-backed, single-edged knife similar to the one described, and -the discolouration around the wounds indicated that the weapon had a -definite shoulder like that of a Norwegian knife, and that it had -been driven in with savage violence. - -“Do you find anything that throws any light on the case?” the -inspector asked, when the examination was concluded. - -“That is impossible to say until we have seen the knife,” replied -Thorndyke; “but while we are waiting for it, we may as well go and -look at the scene of the tragedy. These are Pratt’s boots, I think?” -He lifted a pair of stout laced boots from the table and turned them -up to inspect the soles. - -“Yes, those are his boots,” replied Fox, “and pretty easy they’d have -been to track, if the case had been the other way about. Those -Blakey’s protectors are as good as a trademark.” - -“We’ll take them, at any rate,” said Thorndyke; and, the inspector -having taken the boots from him, we went out and retraced our steps -down the avenue. - -The place where the murder had occurred was easily identified by a -large dark stain on the gravel at one side of the drive, half-way -between two trees--an ancient pollard hornbeam and an elm. Next to -the elm was a pollard oak with a squat, warty bole about seven feet -high, and three enormous limbs, of which one slanted half-way across -the avenue; and between these two trees the ground was covered with -the tracks of men and hounds superimposed upon the hoof-prints of a -horse. - -“Where was the knife found?” Thorndyke asked. - -The inspector indicated a spot near the middle of the drive, almost -opposite the hornbeam and Thorndyke, picking up a large stone, laid -it on the spot. Then he surveyed the Scene thoughtfully, looking up -and down the drive and at the trees that bordered it, and, finally, -walked slowly to the space between the elm and the oak, scanning the -ground as he went. “There is no dearth of footprints,” he remarked -grimly, as he looked down at the trampled earth. - -“No, but the question is, whose are they?” said the inspector. - -“Yes, that is the question,” agreed Thorndyke; “and we will begin the -solution by identifying those of Pratt.” - -“I don’t see how that will help us,” said the inspector. “We know he -was here.” - -Thorndyke looked at him in surprise, and I must confess that the -foolish remark astonished me too, accustomed as I was to the -quick-witted officers from Scotland Yard. - -“The hue and cry procession,” remarked Thorndyke, “seems to have -passed out between the elm and the oak; elsewhere the ground seems -pretty clear.” He walked round the elm, still looking earnestly at -the ground, and presently continued: “Now here, in the soft earth -bordering the turf, are the prints of a pair of smallish feet wearing -pointed boots; a rather short man, evidently, by the size of foot and -length of stride, and he doesn’t seem to have belonged to the -procession. But I don’t see any of Pratt’s; he doesn’t seem to have -come off the hard gravel.” He continued to walk slowly towards the -hornbeam with his eyes fixed on the ground. Suddenly he halted and -stooped with an eager look at the earth; and, as Fox and I -approached, he stood up and pointed. “Pratt’s footprints--faint and -fragmentary, but unmistakable. And now, inspector, you see their -importance. They furnish the time factor in respect of the other foot -prints. Look at this one and then look at that.” He pointed from one -to another of the faint impressions of the dead man’s foot. - -“You mean that there are signs of a struggle?” said Fox. - -“I mean more than that,” replied Thorndyke. “Here is one of Pratt’s -footprints treading into the print of a small, pointed foot; and -there at the edge of the gravel is another of Pratt’s nearly -obliterated by the tread of a pointed foot. Obviously the first -pointed footprint was made before Pratt’s, and the second one after -his; and the necessary inference is that the owner of the pointed -foot was here at the same time as Pratt.” - -“Then he must have been the murderer!” exclaimed Fox. - -“Presumably,” answered Thorndyke; “but let us see whither he went. -You notice, in the first place, that the man stood close to this -tree”--he indicated the hornbeam--“and that he went towards the elm. -Let us follow him. He passes the elm, you see, and you will observe -that these tracks form a regular series leading from the hornbeam and -not mixed up with the marks of the struggle. They were, therefore, -probably made after the murder had been perpetrated. You will also -notice that they pass along the backs of the trees--outside the -avenue, that is; what does that suggest to you?” - -“It suggests to me,” I said, when the inspector had shaken his head -hopelessly, “that there was possibly some one in the avenue when the -man was stealing off.” - -“Precisely,” said Thorndyke. “The body was found not more than nine -minutes after Pratt arrived here. But the murder must have taken some -time. Then the housekeeper thought she heard some one calling and -came out with a lantern, and, at the same time, the general and Mr. -Hanford came up the drive. The suggestion is that the man sneaked -along outside the trees to avoid being seen. However, let us follow -the tracks. They pass the elm and they pass on behind the next tree; -but wait! There is something odd here.” He passed behind the great -pollard oak and looked down at the soft earth by its roots. “Here is -a pair of impressions much deeper than the rest, and they are not a -part of the track since their toes point towards the tree. What do -you make of that?” Without waiting for an answer he began closely to -scan the bole of the tree and especially a large, warty protuberance -about three feet from the ground. On the bark above this was a -vertical mark, as if something had scraped down the tree, and from -the wart itself a dead twig had been newly broken off and lay upon -the ground. Pointing to these marks Thorndyke set his foot on the -protuberance, and, springing up, brought his eye above the level of -the crown, whence the great boughs branched off. - -“Ah!” he exclaimed. “Here is something much more definite.” With the -aid of another projection, he scrambled up into the crown of the -tree, and, having glanced quickly round, beckoned to us. I stepped up -on the projecting lump and, as my eyes rose above the crown, I -perceived the brown, shiny impression of a hand on the edge. Climbing -into the crown, I was quickly followed by the inspector, and we both -stood up by Thorndyke between the three boughs. From where we stood -we looked on the upper side of the great limb that swept out across -the avenue; and there on its lichen-covered surface, we saw the -imprints in reddish-brown of a pair of open hands. - -“You notice,” said Thorndyke, leaning out upon the bough, “that he is -a short man; I cannot conveniently place my hands so low. You also -note that he has both forefingers intact, and so is certainly not -Ellis.” - -“If you mean to say, sir, that these marks were made by the -murderer,” said Fox, “I say it’s impossible. Why, that would mean -that he was here looking down at us when we were searching for him -with the hounds. The presence of the hounds proves that this man -could not have been the murderer.” - -“On the contrary,” said Thorndyke, “the presence of this man with -bloody hands confirms the other evidence, which all indicates that -the hounds were never on the murderer’s trail at all. Come now, -inspector, I put it to you: Here is a murdered man; the murderer has -almost certainly blood upon his hands; and here is a man with bloody -hands, lurking in a tree within a few feet of the corpse and within a -few minutes of its discovery (as is shown by the footprints); what -are the reasonable probabilities?” - -“But you are forgetting the bloodhounds, sir, and the murderer’s -knife,” urged the inspector. - -“Tut, tut, man!” exclaimed Thorndyke; “those blood hounds are a -positive obsession. But I see a sergeant coming up the drive, with -the knife, I hope. Perhaps that will solve the riddle for us.” - -The sergeant, who carried a small dispatch-box, halted opposite the -tree in some surprise while we descended, when he came forward with a -military salute and handed the box to the inspector, who forthwith -unlocked it, and, opening the lid, displayed an object wrapped in a -pocket-handkerchief. - -“There is the knife, sir,” said he, “just as I received it. The -handkerchief is the sergeant’s.” - -Thorndyke unrolled the handkerchief and took from it a large-sized -Norwegian knife, which he looked at critically and then handed to me. -While I was inspecting the blade, he, shook out the handkerchief and, -having looked it over on both sides, turned to the sergeant. - -“At what time did you pick up this knife?” he asked. - -“About seven-fifteen, sir; directly after the hounds had started. I -was careful to pick it up by the ring, and I wrapped it in the -handkerchief at once.” - -“Seven-fifteen,” said Thorndyke. “Less than half-an-hour after the -murder. That is very singular. Do you observe the state of this -handkerchief? There is not a mark on it. Not a trace of any -bloodstain; which proves that when the knife was picked up, the blood -on it was already dry. But things dry slowly, if they dry at all, in -the saturated air of an autumn evening. The appearances seem to -suggest that the blood on the knife was dry when it was thrown down. -By the way, sergeant, what do you scent your handkerchief with?’” - -“Scent, sir!” exclaimed the astonished officer in indignant accents; -“me scent my handkerchief! No, sir, certainly not. Never used scent -in my life, sir.” - -Thorndyke held out the handkerchief, and the sergeant Sniffed at it -incredulously. “It certainly does seem to smell of scent,” he -admitted, “but it must be the knife.” The same idea having occurred -to me, I applied the handle of the knife to my nose and instantly -detected the sickly-sweet odour of musk. - -“The question is,” said the inspector, when the two articles had been -tested by us all, “was it the knife that scented the handkerchief or -the handkerchief that scented the knife?” - -“You heard what the sergeant said,” replied Thorndyke. “There was no -scent on the handkerchief when the knife was wrapped in it. Do you -know, inspector, this scent seems to me to offer a very curious -suggestion. Consider the facts of the case: the distinct trail -leading straight to Ellis, who is, nevertheless, found to be without -a scratch or a spot of blood; the inconsistencies in the case that I -pointed out in the train, and now this knife, apparently dropped with -dried blood on it and scented with musk. To me it suggests a -carefully-planned, coolly-premeditated crime. The murderer knew about -the general’s bloodhounds and made use of them as a blind. He planted -this knife, smeared with blood and tainted with musk, to furnish a -scent. No doubt some object, also scented with musk, would be drawn -over the ground to give the trail. It is only a suggestion, of -course, but it is worth considering.” - -“But, sir,” the inspector objected eagerly, “if the murderer had -handled the knife, it would have scented him too.” - -“Exactly; so, as we are assuming that the man is not a fool, we may -assume that he did not handle it. He will have left it here in -readiness, hidden in some place whence he could knock it down, say, -with a stick, without touching it.” - -“Perhaps in this very tree, sir,” suggested the sergeant, pointing to -the oak. - -“No,” said Thorndyke, “he would hardly have hidden in the tree where -the knife had been. The hounds might have scented the place instead -of following the trail at once. The most likely hiding-place for the -knife is the one nearest the spot where it was found.” He walked over -to the stone that marked the spot, and looking round, continued: “You -see, that hornbeam is much the nearest, and its flat crown would be -very convenient for the purpose--easily reached even by a short man, -as he appears to be. Let us see if there are any traces of it. -Perhaps you will give me a ‘back up,’ sergeant, as we haven’t a -ladder.” - -The sergeant assented with a faint grin, and stooping beside the tree -in an attitude suggesting the game of leap frog, placed his hands -firmly on his knees. Grasping a stout branch, Thorndyke swung himself -up on the Sergeant’s broad back, whence he looked down into the crown -of the tree. Then, parting the branches, he stepped onto the ledge -and disappeared into the central hollow. - -When he reappeared he held in his hands two very singular objects: a -pair of iron crucible-tongs and an artist’s brush-case of -black-japanned tin. The former article he handed down to me, but the -brush-case he held carefully by its wire handle as he dropped to the -ground. - -“The significance of these things is, I think, obvious,” he said. -“The tongs were used to handle the knife with and the case to carry -it in, so that it should not scent his clothes or bag. It was very -carefully planned.” - -“If that is so,” said the inspector, “the inside of the case ought to -smell of musk.” - -“No doubt,” said Thorndyke; “but before we open it, there is a rather -important matter to be attended to. Will you give me the Vitogen -powder, Jervis?” - -I opened the canvas-covered “research case” and took from it an -object like a diminutive pepper-caster--an iodoform dredger in -fact--and handed it to him. Grasping the brush-case by its wire -handle, he sprinkled the pale yellow powder from the dredger freely -all round the pulloff lid, tapping the top with his knuckles to make -the fine particles spread. Then he blew off the superfluous powder, -and the two police officers gave a simultaneous gasp of joy; for now, -on the black background, there stood out plainly a number of -finger-prints, so clear and distinct that the ridge-pattern could be -made out with perfect ease. - -“These will probably be his right hand,” said Thorndyke. - -“Now for the left.” He treated the body of the case in the same way, -and, when he had blown off the powder, the entire surface was spotted -with yellow, oval impressions. “Now, Jervis,” said he, “if you will -put on a glove and pull off the lid, we can test the inside.” - -There was no difficulty in getting the lid off, for the shoulder of -the case had been smeared with vaseline--apparently to produce an -airtight joint--and, as it separated with a hollow sound, a faint, -musky odour exhaled from its interior. - -“The remainder of the inquiry,” said Thorndyke, when I pushed the lid -on again, “will be best conducted at the police station, where, also, -we can photograph these finger prints.” - -“The shortest way will be across the meadows,” said Fox; “the way the -hounds went.” - -By this route we accordingly travelled, Thorndyke carrying the -brush-case tenderly by its handle. - -“I don’t quite see where Ellis comes in in this job,” said the -inspector, as we walked along, “if the fellow had a grudge against -Pratt. They weren’t chums.” - -“I think I do,” said Thorndyke. “You say that both men were prison -officers at Portland at the same time. Now doesn’t it seem likely -that this is the work of some old convict who had been -identified--and perhaps blackmailed--by Pratt, and possibly by Ellis -too? That is where the value of the finger-prints comes in. If he is -an old ‘lag’ his prints will be at Scotland Yard. Otherwise they are -not of much value as a clue.” - -“That’s true, sir,” said the inspector. “I suppose you want to see -Ellis.” - -“I want to see that purse that you spoke of, first,” replied -Thorndyke. “That is probably the other end of the clue.” - -As soon as we arrived at the station, the inspector unlocked a safe -and brought out a parcel. “These are Ellis’s things,” said he, as he -unfastened it, “and that is the purse.” - -He handed Thorndyke a small pigskin pouch, which my colleague opened, -and having smelt the inside, passed to me. The odour of musk was -plainly perceptible, especially in the small compartment at the back. - -“It has probably tainted the other contents of the parcel,” said -Thorndyke, sniffing at each article in turn, “but my sense of smell -is not keen enough to detect any scent. They all seem odourless to -me, whereas the purse smells quite distinctly. Shall we have Ellis in -now?” - -The sergeant took a key from a locked drawer and de parted for the -cells, whence he presently reappeared accompanied by the prisoner--a -stout, burly man, in the last stage of dejection. - -“Come, cheer up, Ellis,” said the inspector. “Here’s Dr. Thorndyke -come down to help us and he wants to ask you one or two questions.” - -Ellis looked piteously at Thorndyke, and exclaimed: “I know nothing -whatever about this affair, sir, I swear to God I don’t.” - -“I never supposed you did,” said Thorndyke. “But there are one or two -things that I want you to tell me. To begin with, that purse: where -did you find it?” - -“On the Thorpe road, sir. It was lying in the middle of the footway.” - -“Had any one else passed the spot lately? Did you meet or pass any -one?” - -“Yes, sir, I met a labourer about a minute before I saw the purse. I -can’t imagine why he didn’t see it.” - -“Probably because it wasn’t there,” said Thorndyke. “Is there a hedge -there?” - -“Yes, sir; a hedge on a low bank.” - -“Ha! Well, now, tell me: is there any one about here whom you knew -when you and Pratt were together at Portland? Any old lag--to put it -bluntly--whom you and Pratt have been putting the screw on.” - -“No, sir, I swear there isn’t. But I wouldn’t answer for Pratt. He -had a rare memory for faces.” - -Thorndyke reflected. “Were there any escapes from Portland in your -time?” he asked. - -“Only one--a man named Dobbs. He made off to the Sea in a sudden fog -and he was supposed to be drowned. His clothes washed up on the Bill, -but not his body. At any rate, he was never heard of again.” - -“Thank you, Ellis. Do you mind my taking your finger prints?” - -“Certainly, not, sir,” was the almost eager reply; and the office -inking-pad being requisitioned, a rough set of finger-prints was -produced; and when Thorndyke had compared them with those on the -brush-case and found no resemblance, Ellis returned to his cell in -quite buoyant spirits. - -Having made several photographs of the strange finger-prints, we -returned to town that evening, taking the negatives with us; and -while we waited for our train, Thorndyke gave a few parting -injunctions to the inspector. “Remember,” he said, “that the man must -have washed his hands before he could appear in public. Search the -banks of every pond, ditch and stream in the neighbourhood for -footprints like those in the avenue; and, if you find any, search the -bottom of the water thoroughly, for he is quite likely to have -dropped the knife into the mud.” - -The photographs, which we handed in at Scotland Yard that same night, -enabled the experts to identify the finger prints as those of Francis -Dobbs, an escaped convict. The two photographs--profile and -full-face--which were attached to his record, were sent down to -Baysford with a description of the man, and were, in due course, -identified with a somewhat mysterious individual, who passed by the -name of Rufus Pembury and who had lived in the neighbourhood as a -private gentleman for some two years. But Rufus Pembury was not to be -found either at his genteel house or elsewhere. All that was known -was, that on the day after the murder, he had converted his entire -“personalty” into “bearer securities,” and then vanished from mortal -ken. Nor has he ever been heard of to this day. - -“And, between ourselves,” said Thorndyke, when we were discussing the -case some time after, “he deserved to escape. It was clearly a case -of blackmail, and to kill a blackmailer--when you have no other -defence against him--is hardly murder. As to Ellis, he could never -have been convicted, and Dobbs, or Pembury, must have known it. But -he would have been committed to the Assizes, and that would have -given time for all traces to disappear. No, Dobbs was a man of -courage, ingenuity and resource; and, above all, he knocked the -bottom out of the great bloodhound superstition.” - - - - -THE ECHO OF A MUTINY - - -PART I - -DEATH ON THE GIRDLER - -Popular belief ascribes to infants and the lower animals certain -occult powers of divining character denied to the reasoning faculties -of the human adult; and is apt to accept their judgment as finally -overriding the pronouncements of mere experience. - -Whether this belief rests upon any foundation other than the -universal love of paradox it is unnecessary to inquire. It is very -generally entertained, especially by ladies of a certain social -status; and by Mrs. Thomas Solly it was loyally maintained as an -article of faith. - -“Yes,” she moralized, “it’s surprisin’ how they know, the little -children and the dumb animals. But they do. There’s no deceivin’ -_them_. They can tell the gold from the dross in a moment, they can, -and they reads the human heart like a book. Wonderful, I call it. I -suppose it’s instinct.” - -Having delivered herself of this priceless gem of philosophic -thought, she thrust her arms elbow-deep into the foaming wash-tub and -glanced admiringly at her lodger as he sat in the doorway, supporting -on one knee an obese infant of eighteen months and on the other a -fine tabby cat. - -James Brown was an elderly seafaring man, small and slight in build -and in manner suave, insinuating and perhaps a trifle sly. But he had -all the sailor’s love of children and animals, and the sailor’s knack -of making himself acceptable to them, for, as he sat with an empty -pipe wobbling in the grasp of his toothless gums, the baby beamed -with humid smiles, and the cat, rolled into a fluffy ball and purring -like a stocking-loom, worked its fingers ecstatically as if it were -trying on a new pair of gloves. - -“It must be mortal lonely out at the lighthouse,” Mrs. Solly resumed. -“Only three men and never a neighbour to speak to; and, Lord! what a -muddle they must be in with no woman to look after them and keep ’em -tidy. But you won’t be overworked, Mr. Brown, in these long days; day -light till past nine o’clock. I don’t know what you’ll do to pass the -time.” - -“Oh, I shall find plenty to do, I expect,” said Brown, “what with -cleanin’ the lamps and glasses and paintin’ up the ironwork. And that -reminds me,” he added, looking round at the clock, “that time’s -getting on. High water at half-past ten, and here it’s gone eight -o’clock.” - -Mrs. Solly, acting on the hint, began rapidly to fish out the washed -garments and wring them out into the form of short ropes. Then, -having dried her hands on her apron, she relieved Brown of the -protesting baby. - -“Your room will be ready for you, Mr. Brown,” said she, “when your -turn comes for a spell ashore; and main glad me and Tom will be to -see you back.” - -“Thank you, Mrs. Solly, ma’am,” answered Brown, tenderly placing the -cat on the floor; “you won’t be more glad than what I will.” He shook -hands warmly with his land lady, kissed the baby, chucked the cat -under the chin, and, picking up his little chest by its becket, swung -it onto his shoulder and strode out of the cottage. - -His way lay across the marshes, and, like the ships in the offing, he -shaped his course by the twin towers of Reculver that stood up -grotesquely on the rim of the land; and as he trod the springy turf, -Tom Solly’s fleecy charges looked up at him with vacant stares and -valedictory bleatings. Once, at a dyke-gate, he paused to look back -at the fair Kentish landscape: at the grey tower of St. -Nicholas-at-Wade peeping above the trees and the faraway mill at -Sarre, whirling slowly in the summer breeze; and, above all, at the -solitary cottage where, for a brief spell in his stormy life, he had -known the homely joys of domesticity and peace. Well, that was over -for the present, and the lighthouse loomed ahead. With a half-sigh he -passed through the gate and walked on towards Reculver. - -Outside the whitewashed cottages with their official black chimneys a -petty-officer of the coast-guard was adjusting the halyards of the -flagstaff. He looked round as Brown approached, and hailed him -cheerily. - -“Here you are, then,” said he, “all figged out in your new togs, too. -But we’re in a bit of a difficulty, d’ye see. We’ve got to pull up to -Whitstable this morning, so I can’t send a man out with you and I -can’t spare a boat.” - -“Have I got to swim out, then?” asked Brown. - -The coast-guard grinned. “Not in them new clothes, mate,” he -answered. “No, but there’s old Willett’s boat; he isn’t using her -to-day; he’s going over to Minster to see his daughter, and he’ll let -us have the loan of the boat. But there’s no one to go with you, and -I’m responsible to Willett.” - -“Well, what about it?” asked Brown, with the deep-sea sailor’s -(usually misplaced) confidence in his power to handle a sailing-boat. -“D’ye think I can’t manage a tub of a boat? Me what’s used the sea -since I was a kid of ten?” - -“Yes,” said the coast-guard; “but who’s to bring her back?” - -“Why, the man that I’m going to relieve,” answered Brown. “He don’t -want to swim no more than what I do.” - -The coast-guard reflected with his telescope pointed at a passing -barge. “Well, I suppose it’ll be all right,” he concluded; “but it’s -a pity they couldn’t send the tender round. However, if you undertake -to send the boat back, we’ll get her afloat. It’s time you were off.” - -He strolled away to the back of the cottages, whence he presently -returned with two of his mates, and the four men proceeded along the -shore to where Willett’s boat lay just above high-water mark. - -The _Emily_ was a beamy craft of the type locally known as a -“half-share skiff,” solidly built of oak, with varnished planking and -fitted with main and mizzen lugs. She was a good handful for four -men, and, as she slid over the soft chalk rocks with a hollow rumble, -the coast-guards debated the advisability of lifting out the bags of -shingle with which she was ballasted. However, she was at length -dragged down, ballast and all, to the water’s edge, and then, while -Brown stepped the mainmast, the petty-officer gave him his -directions. “What you’ve got to do,” said he, “is to make use of the -flood-tide. Keep her nose nor’-east, and with this trickle of -nor’-westerly breeze you ought to make the lighthouse in one board. -Anyhow don’t let her get east of the lighthouse, or, when the ebb -sets in, you’ll be in a fix.” - -To these admonitions Brown listened with jaunty indifference as he -hoisted the sails and watched the incoming tide creep over the level -shore. Then the boat lifted on the gentle swell. Putting out an oar, -he gave a vigorous shove off that sent the boat, with a final scrape, -clear of the beach, and then, having dropped the rudder onto its -pintles, he seated himself and calmly belayed the main-sheet. - -“There he goes,” growled the coast-guard; “makin’ fast his sheet. -They _will_ do it” (he invariably did it himself), “and that’s how -accidents happen. I hope old Willett ’ll see his boat back all right.” - -He stood for some time watching the dwindling boat as it sidled -across the smooth water; then he turned and followed his mates -towards the station. - -Out on the south-western edge of the Girdler Sand, just inside the -two-fathom line, the spindle-shanked lighthouse stood a-straddle on -its long screw-piles like some uncouth red-bodied wading bird. It was -now nearly half flood tide. The highest shoals were long since -covered, and the lighthouse rose above the smooth sea as solitary as -a slaver becalmed in the “middle passage.” - -On the gallery outside the lantern were two men, the entire staff of -the building, of whom one sat huddled in a chair with his left leg -propped up with pillows on another, while his companion rested a -telescope on the rail and peered at the faint grey line of the -distant land and the two tiny points that marked the twin spires of -Reculver. - -“I don’t see any signs of the boat, Harry,” said he. - -The other man groaned. “I shall lose the tide,” he complained, “and -then there’s another day gone.” - -“They can pull you down to Birchington and put you in the train,” -said the first man. - -“I don’t want no trains,” growled the invalid. “The boat ’ll be bad -enough. I suppose there’s nothing coming our way, Tom?” - -Tom turned his face eastward and shaded his eyes. “There’s a brig -coming across the tide from the north,” he said. “Looks like a -collier.” He pointed his telescope at the approaching vessel, and -added: “She’s got two new cloths in her upper fore top-sail, one on -each leech.” - -The other man sat up eagerly. “What’s her trysail like, Tom?” he -asked. - -“Can’t see it,” replied Tom. “Yes, I can, now: it’s tanned. Why, -that’ll be the old _Utopia_, Harry; she’s the only brig I know that’s -got a tanned trysail.” - -“Look here, Tom,” exclaimed the other, “If that’s the _Utopia_, she’s -going to my home and I’m going aboard of her. Captain Mockett ’ll -give me a passage, I know.” - -“You oughtn’t to go until you’re relieved, you know, Barnett,” said -Tom doubtfully; “it’s against regulations to leave your station.” - -“Regulations be blowed!” exclaimed Barnett. “My leg’s more to me than -the regulations. I don’t want to be a cripple all my life. Besides, -I’m no good here, and this new chap, Brown, will be coming out -presently. You run up the signal, Tom, like a good comrade, and hail -the brig.” - -“Well, it’s your look-out,” said Tom, “and I don’t mind saying that -if I was in your place I should cut off home and see a doctor, if I -got the chance.” He sauntered off to the flag-locker, and, selecting -the two code-flags, deliberately toggled them onto the halyards. -Then, as the brig swept up within range, he hoisted the little balls -of bunting to the flagstaff-head and jerked the halyards, when the -two flags blew out making the signal “Need assistance.” - -Promptly a coal-soiled answering pennant soared to the brig’s -main-truck; less promptly the collier went about, and, turning her -nose down stream, slowly drifted stern-forwards towards the -lighthouse. Then a boat slid out through her gangway, and a couple of -men plied the oars vigorously. - -“Lighthouse ahoy!” roared one of them, as the boat came within hail. -“What’s amiss?” - -“Harry Barnett has broke his leg,” shouted the lighthouse keeper, -“and he wants to know if Captain Mockett will give him a passage to -Whitstable.” - -The boat turned back to the brig, and after a brief and bellowed -consultation, once more pulled towards the lighthouse. - -“Skipper says yus,” roared the sailor, when he was within ear-shot, -“and he says look alive, ’cause he don’t want to miss his tide.” - -The injured man heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s good news,” said he, -“though, how the blazes I’m going to get down the ladder is more than -I can tell. What do you say, Jeffreys?” - -“I say you’d better let me lower you with the tackle,” replied -Jeffreys. “You can sit in the bight of a rope and I’ll give you a -line to steady yourself with.” - -“Ah, that’ll do, Tom,” said Barnett; “but, for the Lord’s sake, pay -out the fall-rope gently.” - -The arrangements were made so quickly that by the time the boat was -fast alongside everything was in readiness, and a minute later the -injured man, dangling like a gigantic spider from the end of the -tackle, slowly descended, cursing volubly to the accompaniment of the -creaking of the blocks. His chest and kit-bag followed, and, as soon -as these were unhooked from the tackle, the boat pulled off to the -brig, which was now slowly creeping stern-foremost past the -lighthouse. The sick man was hoisted up the side, his chest handed up -after him, and then the brig was put on her course due South across -the Kentish Flats. - -Jeffreys stood on the gallery watching the receding vessel and -listening to the voices of her crew as they grew small and weak in -the increasing distance. Now that his gruff companion was gone, a -strange loneliness had fallen on the lighthouse. The last of the -homeward-bound ships had long since passed up the Princes Channel and -left the calm sea desolate and blank. The distant buoys, showing as -tiny black dots on the glassy surface, and the spindly shapes of the -beacons which stood up from invisible shoals, but emphasized the -solitude of the empty sea, and the tolling of the bell buoy on the -Shivering Sand, stealing faintly down the wind, sounded weird and -mournful. The day’s work was already done. The lenses were polished, -the lamps had been trimmed, and the little motor that worked the fog -horn had been cleaned and oiled. There were several odd jobs, it is -true, waiting to be done, as there always are in a lighthouse; but, -just now, Jeffreys was not in a working humour. A new comrade was -coming into his life to-day, a stranger with whom he was to be shut -up alone, night and day, for a month on end, and whose temper and -tastes and habits might mean for him pleasant companionship or -jangling and discord without end. Who was this man Brown? What had he -been? and what was he like? These were the questions that passed, -naturally enough, through the lighthouse keeper’s mind and distracted -him from his usual thoughts and occupations. - -Presently a speck on the landward horizon caught his eye. He snatched -up the telescope eagerly to inspect it. Yes, it was a boat; but not -the coast-guard’s cutter, for which he was looking. Evidently a -fisherman’s boat and with only one man in it. He laid down the -telescope with a sigh of disappointment, and, filling his pipe, -leaned on the rail with a dreamy eye bent on the faint grey line of -the land. - -Three long years had he spent in this dreary solitude, so repugnant -to his active, restless nature: three blank, interminable years, with -nothing to look back on but the endless succession of summer calms, -stormy nights and the chilly fogs of winter, when the unseen steamers -hooted from the void and the fog-horn bellowed its hoarse warning. - -Why had he come to this God-forsaken spot? and why did he stay, when -the wide world called to him? And then memory painted him a picture -on which his mind’s eye had often looked before and which once again -arose before him, shutting out the vision of the calm sea and the -distant land. It was a brightly-coloured picture. It showed a -cloudless sky brooding over the deep blue tropic sea: and in the -middle of the picture, see-sawing gently on the quiet swell, a -white-painted barque. - -Her sails were clewed up untidily, her swinging yards jerked at the -slack braces and her untended wheel revolved to and fro to the -oscillations of the rudder. - -She was not a derelict, for more than a dozen men were on her deck; -but the men were all drunk and mostly asleep, and there was never an -officer among them. - -Then he saw the interior of one of her cabins. The chart rack, the -tell-tale compass and the chronometers marked it as the captain’s -cabin. In it were four men, and two of them lay dead on the deck. Of -the other two, one was a small, cunning-faced man, who was, at the -moment, kneeling be side one of the corpses to wipe a knife upon its -coat. The fourth man was himself. - -Again, he saw the two murderers stealing off in a quarter boat, as -the barque with her drunken crew drifted towards the spouting surf of -a river-bar. He saw the ship melt away in the surf like an icicle in -the sunshine; and, later, two shipwrecked mariners, picked up in an -open boat and set ashore at an American port. - -That was why he was here. Because he was a murderer. The other -scoundrel, Amos Todd, had turned Queen’s Evidence and denounced him, -and he had barely managed to escape. Since then he had hidden himself -from the great world, and here he must continue to hide, not from the -law--for his person was unknown now that his shipmates were dead--but -from the partner of his crime. It was the fear of Todd that had -changed him from Jeffrey Rorke to Tom Jeffreys and had sent him to -the Girdler, a prisoner for life. Todd might die--might even now be -dead--but he would never hear of it: would never hear the news of his -release. - -He roused himself and once more pointed his telescope at the distant -boat. She was considerably nearer now and seemed to be heading out -towards the lighthouse. Perhaps the man in her was bringing a -message; at any rate, there was no sign of the coast-guard’s cutter. - -He went in, and, betaking himself to the kitchen, busied himself with -a few simple preparations for dinner. But there was nothing to cook, -for there remained the cold meat from yesterday’s cooking, which he -would make sufficient, with some biscuit in place of potatoes. He -felt restless and unstrung; the solitude irked him, and the -everlasting wash of the water among the piles jarred on his nerves. - -When he went out again into the gallery the ebb-tide had set in -strongly and the boat was little more than a mile distant; and now, -through the glass, he could see that the man in her wore the uniform -cap of the Trinity House. Then the man must be his future comrade, -Brown; but this was very extraordinary. What were they to do with the -boat? There was no one to take her back. - -The breeze was dying away. As he watched the boat, he saw the man -lower the sail and take to his oars; and something of hurry in the -way the man pulled over the gathering tide, caused Jeffreys to look -round the horizon. And then, for the first time, he noticed a bank of -fog creeping up from the east and already so near that the beacon on -the East Girdler had faded out of sight. He hastened in to start the -little motor that compressed the air for the fog-horn and waited -awhile to see that the mechanism was running properly. Then, as the -deck vibrated to the roar of the horn, he went out once more into the -gallery. - -The fog was now all round the lighthouse and the boat was hidden from -view. He listened intently. The enclosing wall of vapour seemed to -have shut out sound as well as vision. At intervals the horn bellowed -its note of warning, and then all was still save the murmur of the -water among the piles below, and, infinitely faint and far away, the -mournful tolling of the bell on the Shivering Sand. - -At length there came to his ear the muffled sound of oars working in -the tholes; then, at the very edge of the circle of grey water that -was visible, the boat appeared through the fog, pale and spectral, -with a shadowy figure pulling furiously. The horn emitted a hoarse -growl; the man looked round, perceived the lighthouse and altered his -course towards it. - -Jeffreys descended the iron stairway, and, walking along the lower -gallery, stood at the head of the ladder earnestly watching the -approaching stranger. Already he was tired of being alone. The -yearning for human companionship had been growing ever since Barnett -left. But what sort of comrade was this stranger who was coming into -his life? And coming to occupy so dominant a place in it. - -The boat swept down swiftly athwart the hurrying tide. Nearer it came -and yet nearer: and still Jeffreys could catch no glimpse of his new -comrade’s face. At length it came fairly alongside and bumped against -the fender-posts; the stranger whisked in an oar and grabbed a rung -of the ladder, and Jeffreys dropped a coil of rope into the boat. And -still the man’s face was hidden. - -Jeffreys, leaned out over the ladder and watched him anxiously, as he -made fast the rope, unhooked the sail from the traveller and -unstepped the mast. When he had set all in order, the stranger picked -up a small chest, and, swinging it over his shoulder, stepped onto -the ladder. Slowly, by reason of his encumbrance, he mounted, rung by -rung, with never an upward glance, and Jeffreys gazed down at the top -of his head with growing curiosity. At last he reached the top of the -ladder and Jeffreys stooped to lend him a hand. Then, for the first -time, he looked up, and Jeffreys started back with a blanched face. - -“God Almighty!” he gasped. “It’s Amos Todd!” - -As the newcomer stepped on the gallery, the fog-horn emitted a roar -like that of some hungry monster. Jeffreys turned abruptly without a -word, and walked to the stairs, followed by Todd, and the two men -ascended with never a sound but the hollow clank of their footsteps -on the iron plates. Silently Jeffreys stalked into the living-room -and, as his companion followed, he turned and motioned to the latter -to set down his chest. - -“You ain’t much of a talker, mate,” said Todd, looking round the room -in some surprise; “ain’t you going to say ‘good-morning’? We’re going -to be good comrades, I hope. I’m Jim Brown, the new hand, I am; what -might your name be?” - -Jeffreys turned on him suddenly and led him to the window. “Look at -me carefully, Amos Todd,” he said sternly, “and then ask yourself -what my name is.” - -At the sound of his voice Todd looked up with a start and turned pale -as death. “It can’t be,” he whispered, “it can’t be Jeff Rorke!” - -The other man laughed harshly, and leaning forward, said in a low -voice: “Hast thou found me, O mine enemy!” - -“Don’t say that!” exclaimed Todd. “Don’t call me your enemy, Jeff. -Lord knows but I’m glad to see you, though I’d never have known you -without your beard and with that grey hair. I’ve been to blame, Jeff, -and I know it; but it ain’t no use raking up old grudges. Let bygones -be bygones, Jeff, and let us be pals as we used to be.” He wiped his -face with his handkerchief and watched his companion apprehensively. - -“Sit down,” said Rorke, pointing to a shabby rep-covered arm-chair; -“sit down and tell me what you’ve done with all that money. You’ve -blued it all, I suppose, or you wouldn’t be here.” - -“Robbed, Jeff,” answered Todd; “robbed of every penny. Ah! that was -an unfortunate affair, that job on board the old _Sea-flower_. But -it’s over and done with and we’d best forget it. They’re all dead but -us, Jeff, so we’re safe enough so long as we keep our mouths shut; -all at the bottom of the sea--and the best place for ’em too.” - -“Yes,” Rorke replied fiercely, “that’s the best place for your -shipmates when they know too much; at the bottom of the sea or -swinging at the end of a rope.” He paced up and down the little room -with rapid strides, and each time that he approached Todd’s chair the -latter shrank back with an expression of alarm. - -“Don’t sit there staring at me,” said Rorke. “Why don’t you smoke or -do something?” - -Todd hastily produced a pipe from his pocket, and having filled it -from a moleskin pouch, stuck it in his mouth while he searched for a -match. Apparently he carried his matches loose in his pocket, for he -presently brought one forth--a red-headed match, which, when he -struck it on the wall, lighted with a pale-blue flame. He applied it -to his pipe, sucking in his cheeks while he kept his eyes fixed on -his companion. Rorke, meanwhile, halted in his walk to cut some -shavings from a cake of hard tobacco with a large clasp-knife; and, -as he stood, he gazed with frowning abstraction at Todd. - -“This pipe’s stopped,” said the latter, sucking ineffectually at the -mouthpiece. “Have you got such a thing as a piece of wire, Jeff?” - -“No, I haven’t,” replied Rorke; “not up here. I’ll get a bit from the -store presently. Here, take this pipe till you can clean your own: -I’ve got another in the rack there.” The sailor’s natural hospitality -overcoming for the moment his animosity, he thrust the pipe that he -had just filled towards Todd, who took it with a mumbled “Thank you” -and an anxious eye on the open knife. On the wall beside the chair -was a roughly-carved pipe-rack containing several pipes, one of which -Rorke lifted out; and, as he leaned over the chair to reach it, -Todd’s face went several shades paler. - -“Well, Jeff,” he said, after a pause, while Rorke cut a fresh “fill” -of tobacco, “are we going to be pals same as what we used to be?” - -Rorke’s animosity lighted up afresh. “Am I going to be pals with the -man that tried to swear away my life?” he said sternly; and after a -pause he added: “That wants thinking about, that does; and meantime I -must go and look at the engine.” - -When Rorke had gone the new hand sat, with the two pipes in his -hands, reflecting deeply. Abstractedly he stuck the fresh pipe into -his mouth, and, dropping the stopped one into the rack, felt for a -match. Still with an air of abstraction he lit the pipe, and having -smoked for a minute or two, rose from the chair and began softly to -creep across the room, looking about him and listening intently. At -the door he paused to look out into the fog, and then, having again -listened attentively, he stepped on tip-toe out onto the gallery and -along towards the stairway. Of a sudden the voice of Rorke brought -him up with a start. - -“Hallo, Todd! where are you off to?” - -“I’m just going down to make the boat secure,” was the reply. - -“Never you mind about the boat,” said Rorke. “I’ll see to her.” - -“Right-o, Jeff,” said Todd, still edging towards the stairway. “But, -I say, mate, where’s the other man--the man that I’m to relieve?” - -“There ain’t any other man,” replied Rorke; “he went off aboard a -collier.” - -Todd’s face suddenly became grey and haggard. “Then there’s no one -here but us two!” he gasped; and then, with an effort to conceal his -fear, he asked: “But who’s going to take the boat back?” - -“We’ll see about that presently,” replied Rorke; “you get along in -and unpack your chest.” - -He came out on the gallery as he spoke, with a lowering frown on his -face. Todd cast a terrified glance at him, and then turned and ran -for his life towards the stairway. - -“Come back!” roared Rorke, springing forward along the gallery; but -Todd’s feet were already clattering down the iron steps. By the time -Rorke reached the head of the stairs, the fugitive was near the -bottom; but here, in his haste, he stumbled, barely saving himself by -the handrail, and when he recovered his balance Rorke was upon him. -Todd darted to the head of the ladder, but, as he grasped the -stanchion, his pursuer seized him by the collar. In a moment he had -turned with his hand under his coat. There was a quick blow, a loud -curse from Rorke, an answering yell from Todd, and a knife fell -spinning through the air and dropped into the fore-peak of the boat -below. - -“You murderous little devil!” said Rorke in an ominously quiet voice, -with his bleeding hand gripping his captive by the throat. “Handy -with your knife as ever, eh? So you were off to give information, -were you?” - -“No, I wasn’t Jeff,” replied Todd in a choking voice; “I wasn’t, -s’elp me, God. Let go, Jeff. I didn’t mean no harm. I was only----” -With a sudden wrench he freed one hand and struck out frantically at -his captor’s face. But Rorke warded off the blow, and, grasping the -other wrist, gave a violent push and let go. Todd staggered backward -a few paces along the staging, bringing up at the extreme edge; and -here, for a sensible time, he stood with wide-open mouth and starting -eye-balls, swaying and clutching wildly at the air. Then, with a -shrill scream, he toppled backwards and fell, striking a pile in his -descent and rebounding into the water. - -In spite of the audible thump of his head on the pile, he was not -stunned, for when he rose to the surface, he struck out vigorously, -uttering short, stifled cries for help. Rorke watched him with set -teeth and quickened breath, but made no move. Smaller and still -smaller grew the head with its little circle of ripples, swept away -on the swift ebb-tide, and fainter the bubbling cries that came -across the smooth water. At length as the small black spot began to -fade in the fog, the drowning man, with a final effort, raised his -head clear of the surface and sent a last, despairing shriek towards -the lighthouse. The fog-horn sent back an answering bellow; the head -sank below the surface and was seen no more; and in the dreadful -stillness that settled down upon the sea there sounded faint and far -away the muffled tolling of a bell. - -Rorke stood for some minutes immovable, wrapped in thought. Presently -the distant hoot of a steamer’s whistle aroused him. The ebb-tide -shipping was beginning to come down and the fog might lift at any -moment; and there was the boat still alongside. She must be disposed -of at once. No one had seen her arrive and no one must see her made -fast to the lighthouse. Once get rid of the boat and all traces of -Todd’s visit would be destroyed. He ran down the ladder and stepped -into the boat. It was simple. She was heavily ballasted, and would go -down if she filled. - -He shifted some of the bags of shingle, and, lifting the bottom -boards, pulled out the plug. Instantly a large jet of water spouted -up into the bottom. Rorke looked at it critically, and, deciding that -it would fill her in a few minutes, replaced the bottom boards; and -having secured the mast and sail with a few turns of the sheet round -a thwart, to prevent them from floating away, he cast off the -mooring-rope and stepped on the ladder. - -As the released boat began to move away on the tide, he ran up and -mounted to the upper gallery to watch her disappearance. Suddenly he -remembered Todd’s chest. It was still in the room below. With a -hurried glance around into the fog, he ran down to the room, and -snatching up the chest, carried it out on the lower gallery. After -another nervous glance around to assure himself that no craft was in -sight, he heaved the chest over the handrail, and, when it fell with -a loud splash into the sea, he waited to watch it float away after -its owner and the sunken boat. But it never rose; and presently he -returned to the upper gallery. - -The fog was thinning perceptibly now, and the boat remained plainly -visible as she drifted away. But she sank more slowly than he had -expected, and presently as she drifted farther away, he fetched the -telescope and peered at her with growing anxiety. It would be -unfortunate if any one saw her; if she should be picked up here, with -her plug out, it would be disastrous. - -He was beginning to be really alarmed. Through the glass he could see -that the boat was now rolling in a sluggish, water-logged fashion, -but she still showed some inches of free-board, and the fog was -thinning every moment. - -Presently the blast of a steamer’s whistle sounded close at hand. He -looked round hurriedly and, seeing nothing, again pointed the -telescope eagerly at the dwindling boat. Suddenly he gave a gasp of -relief. The boat had rolled gun wale under; had staggered back for a -moment and then rolled again, slowly, finally, with the water pouring -in over the submerged gunwale. - -In a few more seconds she had vanished. Rorke lowered the telescope -and took a deep breath. Now he was safe. The boat had sunk unseen. -But he was better than safe: he was free. His evil spirit, the -standing menace of his life, was gone, and the wide world, the world -of life, of action, of pleasure, called to him. - -In a few minutes the fog lifted. The sun shone brightly on the -red-funnelled cattle-boat whose whistle had startled him just now, -the summer blue came back to sky and sea, and the land peeped once -more over the edge of the horizon. - -He went in, whistling cheerfully, and stopped the motor; returned to -coil away the rope that he had thrown to Todd; and, when he had -hoisted a signal for assistance, he went in once more to eat his -solitary meal in peace and gladness. - - -PART II - -“THE SINGING BONE” - -(_Related by Christopher Jervis, M.D._) - -To every kind of scientific work a certain amount of manual labour -naturally appertains, labour that cannot be performed by the -scientist himself, since art is long but life is short. A chemical -analysis involves a laborious “clean up” of apparatus and laboratory, -for which the chemist has no time; the preparation of a skeleton--the -maceration, bleaching, “assembling,” and riveting together of -bones--must be carried out by some one whose time is not too -precious. And so with other Scientific activities. Behind the man of -science with his outfit of knowledge is the indispensable mechanic -with his outfit of manual skill. - -Thorndyke’s laboratory assistant, Polton, was a fine example of the -latter type, deft, resourceful, ingenious and untiring. He was -somewhat of an inventive genius, too; and it was one of his -inventions that connected us with the singular case that I am about -to record. - -Though by trade a watchmaker, Polton was, by choice, an optician. -Optical apparatus was the passion of his life; and when, one day, he -produced for our inspection an improved prism for increasing the -efficiency of gas-buoys, Thorndyke at once brought the invention to -the notice of a friend at the Trinity House. - -As a consequence, we three--Thorndyke, Polton and I--found ourselves -early on a fine July morning making our way down Middle Temple Lane -bound for the Temple Pier. A small oil-launch lay alongside the -pontoon, and, as we made our appearance, a red-faced, white-whiskered -gentleman stood up in the cockpit. - -“Here’s a delightful morning, doctor,” he sang out in a fine, brassy, -resonant, seafaring voice; “sort of day for a trip to the lower -river, hey? Hallo, Polton! Coming down to take the bread out of our -mouths, are you? Ha, ha!” The cheery laugh rang out over the river -and mingled with the throb of the engine as the launch moved off from -the pier. - -Captain Grumpass was one of the Elder Brethren of the Trinity House. -Formerly a client of Thorndyke’s he had subsided, as Thorndyke’s -clients were apt to do, into the position of a personal friend, and -his hearty regard included our invaluable assistant. - -“Nice state of things,” continued the captain, with a chuckle, “when -a body of nautical experts have got to be taught their business by a -parcel of lawyers or doctors, what? I suppose trade’s slack and -‘Satan findeth mischief still,’ hey, Polton?” - -“There isn’t much doing on the civil side, sir,” replied Polton, with -a quaint, crinkly smile, “but the criminals are still going strong.” - -“Ha! mystery department still flourishing, what? And, by Jove! -talking of mysteries, doctor, our people have got a queer problem to -work out; something quite in your line--quite. Yes, and, by the Lord -Moses, since I’ve got you here, why shouldn’t I suck your brains?” - -“Exactly,” said Thorndyke. “Why shouldn’t you?” - -“Well, then, I will,” said the captain, “so here goes. All hands to -the pump!” He lit a cigar, and, after a few preliminary puffs, began: -“The mystery, shortly stated, is this: one of our lighthousemen has -disappeared--vanished off the face of the earth and left no trace. He -may have bolted, he may have been drowned accidentally or he may have -been murdered. But I’d rather give you the particulars in order. At -the end of last week a barge brought into Ramsgate a letter from the -screw-pile lighthouse on the Girdler. There are only two men there, -and it seems that one of them, a man named Barnett, had broken his -leg, and he asked that the tender should be sent to bring him ashore. -Well, it happened that the local tender, the _Warden_, was up on the -slip in Ramsgate Harbour, having a scrape down, and wouldn’t be -available for a day or two, so, as the case was urgent, the officer -at Ramsgate sent a letter to the lighthouse by one of the pleasure -steamers saying that the man should be relieved by boat on the -following morning, which was Saturday. He also wrote to a new hand -who had just been taken on, a man named James Brown, who was lodging -near Reculver, waiting his turn, telling him to go out on Saturday -morning in the coast-guard’s boat; and he sent a third letter to the -coast-guard at Reculver asking him to take Brown out to the -lighthouse and bring Barnett ashore. Well, between them, they made a -fine muddle of it. The coast-guard couldn’t spare either a boat or a -man, so they borrowed a fisherman’s boat, and in this the man Brown -started off alone, like an idiot, on the chance that Barnett would be -able to sail the boat back in spite of his broken leg. - -“Meanwhile Barnett, who is a Whitstable man, had signalled a collier -bound for his native town, and got taken off; so that the other -keeper, Thomas Jeffreys, was left alone until Brown should turn up. - -“But Brown never did turn up. The coast-guard helped him to put off -and saw him well out to sea, and the keeper, Jeffreys, saw a -sailing-boat with one man in her making for the lighthouse. Then a -bank of fog came up and hit the boat, and when the fog cleared she -was nowhere to be seen. Man and boat had vanished and left no sign.” - -“He may have been run down,” Thorndyke suggested. - -“He may,” agreed the captain, “but no accident has been reported. The -coast-guards think he may have capsized in a squall--they saw him -make the sheet fast. But there weren’t any squalls; the weather was -quite calm.” - -“Was he all right and well when he put off?” inquired Thorndyke. - -“Yes,” replied the captain, “the coast-guards’ report is highly -circumstantial; in fact, it’s full of silly details that have no -bearing on anything. This is what they say.” He pulled out an -official letter and read: “‘When last seen, the missing man was -seated in the boat’s stern to windward of the helm. He had belayed -the sheet. He was holding a pipe and tobacco-pouch in his hands and -steering with his elbow. He was filling the pipe from the -tobacco-pouch.’ There! ‘He was holding the pipe in his hand,’ mark -you! not with his toes; and he was filling it from a tobacco-pouch, -whereas you’d have expected him to fill it from a coal scuttle or a -feeding-bottle. Bah!” The captain rammed the letter back in his -pocket and puffed scornfully at his cigar. - -“You are hardly fair to the coastguard,” said Thorndyke, laughing at -the captain’s vehemence. “The duty of a witness is to give _all_ the -facts, not a judicious selection.” - -“But, my dear sir,” said Captain Grumpass, “what the deuce can it -matter what the poor devil filled his pipe from?” - -“Who can say?” answered Thorndyke. “It may turn out to be a highly -material fact. One never knows before hand. The value of a particular -fact depends on its relation to the rest of the evidence.” - -“I suppose it does,” grunted the captain; and he continued to smoke -in reflective silence until we opened Blackwall Point, when he -suddenly stood up. - -“There’s a steam trawler alongside our wharf,” he announced. “Now -what the deuce can she be doing there?” He scanned the little steamer -attentively, and continued: “They seem to be landing something, too. -Just pass me those glasses, Polton. Why, hang me! it’s a dead body! -But why on earth are they landing it on our wharf? They must have -known you were coming, doctor.” - -As the launch swept alongside the wharf, the captain sprang up -lightly and approached the group gathered round the body. “What’s -this?” he asked. “Why have they brought this thing here?” - -The master of the trawler, who had superintended the landing, -proceeded to explain. - -“It’s one of your men, sir,” said he. “We saw the body lying on the -edge of the South Shingles Sand, close to the beacon, as we passed at -low water, so we put off the boat and fetched it aboard. As there was -nothing to identify the man by, I had a look in his pockets and found -this letter.” He handed the captain an official envelope addressed to -“Mr. J. Brown, c/o Mr. Solly, Shepherd, Reculver, Kent.” - -“Why, this is the man we were speaking about, doctor,” exclaimed -Captain Grumpass. “What a very singular coincidence. But what are we -to do with the body?” - -“You will have to write to the coroner,” replied Thorndyke. “By the -way, did you turn out all the pockets?” he asked, turning to the -skipper of the trawler. - -“No, sir,” was the reply. “I found the letter in the first pocket -that I felt in, so I didn’t examine any of the others. Is there -anything more that you want to know, sir?” - -“Nothing but your name and address, for the coroner,” replied -Thorndyke, and the skipper, having given this information and -expressed the hope that the coroner would not keep him “hanging -about,” returned to his vessel and pursued his way to Billingsgate. - -“I wonder if you would mind having a look at the body of this poor -devil, while Polton is showing us his contraptions,” said Captain -Grumpass. - -“I can’t do much without a coroner’s order,” replied Thorndyke; “but -if it will give you any satisfaction, Jervis and I will make a -preliminary inspection with pleasure.” - -“I should be glad if you would,” said the captain. “We should like to -know that the poor beggar met his end fairly.” - -The body was accordingly moved to a shed, and, as Polton was led -away, carrying the black bag that contained his precious model, we -entered the shed and commenced our investigation. - -The deceased was a small, elderly man, decently dressed in a somewhat -nautical fashion. He appeared to have been dead only two or three -days, and the body, unlike the majority of sea-borne corpses, was -uninjured by fish or crabs. There were no fractured bones or other -gross injuries, and no wounds, excepting a rugged tear in the scalp -at the back of the head. - -“The general appearance of the body,” said Thorndyke, when he had -noted these particulars, “suggests death by drowning, though, of -course, we can’t give a definite opinion until a _post mortem_ has -been made.” - -“You don’t attach any significance to that scalp-wound, then?” I -asked. - -“As a cause of death? No. It was obviously inflicted during life, but -it seems to have been an oblique blow that spent its force on the -scalp, leaving the skull uninjured. But it is very significant in -another way.” - -“In what way?” I asked. - -Thorndyke took out his pocket-case and extracted a pair of forceps. -“Consider the circumstances,” said he. “This man put off from the -shore to go to the lighthouse, but never arrived there. The question -is, where did he arrive?” As he spoke he stooped over the corpse and -turned back the hair round the wound with the beak of the forceps. -“Look at those white objects among the hair, Jervis, and inside the -wound. They tell us something, I think.” - -I examined, through my lens, the chalky fragments to which he -pointed. “These seem to be bits of shells and the tubes of some -marine worm,” I said. - -“Yes,” he answered; “the broken shells are evidently those of the -acorn barnacle, and the other fragments are mostly pieces of the -tubes of the common serpula. The inference that these objects suggest -is an important one. It is that this wound was produced by some body -encrusted by acorn barnacles and serpulæ; that is to say, by a body -that is periodically submerged. Now, what can that body be, and how -can the deceased have knocked his head against it?” - -“It might be the stem of a ship that ran him down,” I suggested. - -“I don’t think you would find many serpulæ on the stem of a ship,” -said Thorndyke. “The combination rather suggests some stationary -object between tidemarks, such as a beacon. But one doesn’t see how a -man could knock his head against a beacon, while, on the other hand, -there are no other stationary objects out in the estuary to knock -against except buoys, and a buoy presents a flat surface that could -hardly have produced this wound. By the way, we may as well see what -there is in his pockets, though it is not likely that robbery had -anything to do with his death.” - -“No,” I agreed, “and I see his watch is in his pocket; quite a good -silver one,” I added, taking it out. “It has stopped at 12.13.” - -“That may be important,” said Thorndyke, making a note of the fact; -“but we had better examine the pockets one at a time, and put the -things back when we have looked at them.” - -The first pocket that we turned out was the left hip-pocket of the -monkey jacket. This was apparently the one that the skipper had -rifled, for we found in it two letters, both bearing the crest of the -Trinity House. These, of course, we returned without reading, and -then passed on to the right pocket. The contents of this were -commonplace enough, consisting of a briar pipe, a moleskin pouch and -a number of loose matches. - -“Rather a casual proceeding, this,” I remarked, “to carry matches -loose in the pocket, and a pipe with them, too.” - -“Yes,” agreed Thorndyke; “especially with these very inflammable -matches. You notice that the sticks had been coated at the upper end -with sulphur before the red phosphorous heads were put on. They would -light with a touch, and would be very difficult to extinguish; which, -no doubt, is the reason that this type of match is so popular among -seamen, who have to light their pipes in all sorts of weather.” As he -spoke he picked up the pipe and looked at it reflectively, turning it -over in his hand and peering into the bowl. Suddenly he glanced from -the pipe to the dead man’s face and then, with the forceps, turned -back the lips to look into the mouth. - -“Let us see what tobacco he smokes,” said he. - -I opened the sodden pouch and displayed a mass of dark, fine-cut -tobacco. “It looks like shag,” I said. - -“Yes, it is shag,” he replied; “and now we will see what is in the -pipe. It has been only half-smoked out.” He dug out the “dottle” with -his pocket-knife onto a sheet of paper, and we both inspected it. -Clearly it was not shag, for it consisted of coarsely-cut shreds and -was nearly black. - -“Shavings from a cake of ‘hard,’” was my verdict, and Thorndyke -agreed as he shot the fragments back into the pipe. - -The other pockets yielded nothing of interest, except a pocket-knife, -which Thorndyke opened and examined closely. There was not much -money, though as much as one would expect, and enough to exclude the -idea of robbery. - -“Is there a sheath-knife on that strap?” Thorndyke asked, pointing to -a narrow leather belt. I turned back the jacket and looked. - -“There is a sheath,” I said, “but no knife. It must have dropped out.” - -“That is rather odd,” said Thorndyke. “A sailor’s sheath-knife takes -a deal of shaking out as a rule. It is intended to be used in working -on the rigging when the man is aloft, so that he can get it out with -one hand while he is holding on with the other. It has to be and -usually is very secure, for the sheath holds half the handle as well -as the blade. What makes one notice the matter in this case is that -the man, as you see, carried a pocket-knife; and, as this would serve -all the ordinary purposes of a knife, it seems to suggest that the -sheath-knife was carried for defensive purposes: as a weapon, in -fact. However, we can’t get much further in the case with out a _post -mortem_, and here comes the captain.” - -Captain Grumpass entered the shed and looked down commiseratingly at -the dead seaman. - -“Is there anything, doctor, that throws any light on the man’s -disappearance?” he asked. - -“There are one or two curious features in the case,” Thorndyke -replied; “but, oddly enough, the only really important point arises -out of that statement of the coastguard’s, concerning which you were -so scornful.” - -“You don’t say so!” exclaimed the captain. - -“Yes,” said Thorndyke; “the coast-guard states that when last seen -deceased was filling his pipe from his tobacco pouch. Now his pouch -contains shag; but the pipe in his pocket contains hard cut.” - -“Is there no cake tobacco in any of the pockets?” - -“Not a fragment. Of course, it is possible that he might have had a -piece and used it up to fill the pipe; but there is no trace of any -on the blade of his pocket-knife, and you know how this juicy black -cake stains a knife-blade. His sheath-knife is missing, but he would -hardly have used that to shred tobacco when he had a pocket-knife.” - -“No,” assented the captain; “but are you sure he hadn’t a second -pipe?” - -“There was only one pipe,” replied Thorndyke, “and that was not his -own.” - -“Not his own!” exclaimed the captain, halting by a huge, chequered -buoy to stare at my colleague. “How do you know it was not his own?” - -“By the appearance of the vulcanite mouthpiece,” said Thorndyke. “It -showed deep tooth-marks; in fact, it was nearly bitten through. Now a -man who bites through his pipe usually presents certain definite -physical peculiarities, among which is, necessarily, a fairly good -set of teeth. But the dead man had not a tooth in his head.” - -The captain cogitated a while, and then remarked: “I don’t quite see -the bearing of this.” - -“Don’t you?” said Thorndyke. “It seems to me highly suggestive. Here -is a man who, when last seen, was filling his pipe with a particular -kind of tobacco. He is picked up dead, and his pipe contains a -totally different kind of tobacco. Where did that tobacco come from? -The obvious suggestion is that he had met some one.” - -“Yes, it does look like it,” agreed the captain. - -“Then,” continued Thorndyke, “there is the fact that his sheath-knife -is missing. That may mean nothing, but we have to bear it in mind. -And there is another curious circumstance: there is a wound on the -back of the head caused by a heavy bump against some body that was -covered with acorn barnacles and marine worms. Now there are no piers -or stages out in the open estuary. The question is, what could he -have struck?” - -“Oh, there is nothing in that,” said the captain. “When a body has -been washing about in a tide-way for close on three days----” - -“But this is not a question of a body,” Thorndyke interrupted. “The -wound was made during life.” - -“The deuce it was!” exclaimed the captain. “Well, all I can suggest -is that he must have fouled one of the beacons in the fog, stove in -his boat and bumped his head, though, I must admit, that’s rather a -lame explanation.” He stood for a minute gazing at his toes with a -cogitative frown and then looked up at Thorndyke. - -“I have an idea,” he said. “From what you say, this matter wants -looking into pretty carefully. Now, I am going down on the tender -to-day to make inquiries on the spot. What do you say to coming with -me as adviser--as a matter of business, of course--you and Dr. -Jervis? I shall start about eleven; we shall be at the lighthouse by -three o’clock, and you can get back to town to-night, if you want to. -What do you say?” - -“There’s nothing to hinder us,” I put in eagerly, for even at -Bugsby’s Hole the river looked very alluring on this summer morning. - -“Very well,” said Thorndyke, “we will come. Jervis is evidently -hankering for a sea-trip, and so am I, for that matter.” - -“It’s a business engagement, you know,” the captain stipulated. - -“Nothing of the kind,” said Thorndyke; “it’s unmitigated pleasure; -the pleasure of the voyage and your high well-born society.” - -“I didn’t mean that,” grumbled the captain, “but, if you are coming -as guests, send your man for your nightgear and let us bring you back -tomorrow evening.” - -“We won’t disturb Polton,” said my colleague; “we can take the train -from Blackwall and fetch our things ourselves. Eleven o’clock, you -said?” - -“Thereabouts,” said Captain Grumpass; “but don’t put yourselves out.” - -The means of communication in London have reached an almost -undesirable state of perfection. With the aid of the snorting train -and the tinkling, two-wheeled “gondola,” we crossed and re-crossed -the town with such celerity that it was barely eleven when we -reappeared on Trinity Wharf with a joint Gladstone and Thorndyke’s -little green case. - -The tender had hauled out of Bow Creek, and now lay alongside the -wharf with a great striped can buoy dangling from her derrick, and -Captain Grumpass stood at the gang way, his jolly, red face beaming -with pleasure. The buoy was safely stowed forward, the derrick hauled -up to the mast, the loose shrouds rehooked to the screw-lanyards, and -the steamer, with four jubilant hoots, swung round and shoved her -sharp nose against the incoming tide. - -For near upon four hours the ever-widening stream of the “London -River” unfolded its moving panorama. The smoke and smell of Woolwich -Reach gave place to lucid air made soft by the summer haze; the grey -huddle of factories fell away and green levels of cattle-spotted -marsh stretched away to the high land bordering the river valley. -Venerable training ships displayed their chequered hulls by the -wooded shore, and whispered of the days of oak and hemp, when the -tall three-decker, comely and majestic, with her soaring heights of -canvas, like towers of ivory, had not yet given place to the -mud-coloured saucepans that fly the white ensign now-a-days and -devour the substance of the British taxpayer: when a sailor was a -sailor and not a mere seafaring mechanic. Sturdily breasting the -flood tide, the tender threaded her way through the endless -procession of shipping; barges, billy-boys, schooners, brigs; lumpish -Black-seamen, blue-funnelled China tramps, rickety Baltic barques -with twirling windmills, gigantic liners, staggering under a mountain -of top-hamper. Erith, Purfleet, Greenhithe, Grays greeted us and -passed astern. The chimneys of Northfleet, the clustering roofs of -Gravesend, the populous anchorage and the lurking batteries, were -left behind, and, as we swung out of the Lower Hope, the wide expanse -of sea reach spread out before us like a great sheet of blue-shot -satin. - -About half-past twelve the ebb overtook us and helped us on our way, -as we could see by the speed with which the distant land slid past, -and the freshening of the air as we passed through it. - -But sky and sea were hushed in a summer calm. Balls of fleecy cloud -hung aloft, motionless in the soft blue; the barges drifted on the -tide with drooping sails, and a big, striped bell buoy--surmounted by -a staff and cage and labelled “Shivering Sand”--sat dreaming in the -sun above its motionless reflection, to rouse for a moment as it met -our wash, nod its cage drowsily, utter a Solemn ding-dong, and fall -asleep again. - -It was shortly after passing the buoy that the gaunt shape of a -screw-pile lighthouse began to loom up ahead, its dull red paint -turned to vermilion by the early afternoon sun. As we drew nearer, -the name _Girdler_, painted in huge, white letters, became visible, -and two men could be seen in the gallery around the lantern, -inspecting us through a telescope. - -“Shall you be long at the lighthouse, sir?” the master of the tender -inquired of Captain Grumpass; “because we’re going down to the -North-East Pan Sand to fix this new buoy and take up the old one.” - -“Then you’d better put us off at the lighthouse and come back for us -when you’ve finished the job,” was the reply. “I don’t know how long -we shall be.” - -The tender was brought to, a boat lowered, and a couple of hands -pulled us across the intervening space of water. - -“It will be a dirty climb for you in your shore-going clothes,” the -captain remarked--he was as spruce as a new pin himself, “but the -stuff will all wipe off.” We looked up at the skeleton shape. The -falling tide had exposed some fifteen feet of the piles, and piles -and ladder alike were swathed in sea-grass and encrusted with -barnacles and worm tubes. But we were not such town-sparrows as the -captain seemed to think, for we both followed his lead without -difficulty up the slippery ladder, Thorndyke clinging tenaciously to -his little green case, from which he refused to be separated even for -an instant. - -“These gentlemen and I,” said the captain, as we stepped on the stage -at the head of the ladder, “have come to make inquiries about the -missing man, James Brown. Which of you is Jeffreys?” - -“I am, sir,” replied a tall, powerful, square-jawed, beetle-browed -man, whose left hand was tied up in a rough bandage. - -“What have you been doing to your hand?” asked the captain. - -“I cut it while I was peeling some potatoes,” was the reply. “It -isn’t much of a cut, sir.” - -“Well, Jeffreys,” said the captain, “Brown’s body has been picked up -and I want particulars for the inquest. You’ll be summoned as a -witness, I suppose, so come in and tell us all you know.” - -We entered the living-room and seated ourselves at the table. The -captain opened a massive pocket-book, while Thorndyke, in his -attentive, inquisitive fashion, looked about the odd, cabin-like room -as if making a mental inventory of its contents. - -Jeffreys’ statement added nothing to what we already knew. He had -seen a boat with one man in it making for the lighthouse. Then the -fog had drifted up and he had lost sight of the boat. He started the -fog-horn and kept a bright look-out, but the boat never arrived. And -that was all he knew. He supposed that the man must have missed the -lighthouse and been carried away on the ebb-tide, which was running -strongly at the time. - -“What time was it when you last saw the boat?” Thorndyke asked. - -“About half-past eleven,” replied Jeffreys. - -“What was the man like?” asked the captain. - -“I don’t know, sir; he was rowing, and his back was towards me.” - -“Had he any kit-bag or chest with him?” asked Thorndyke. - -“He’d got his chest with him,” said Jeffreys. - -“What sort of chest was it?” inquired Thorndyke. - -“A small chest, painted green, with rope beckets.” - -“Was it corded?” - -“It had a single cord round, to hold the lid down.” - -“Where was it stowed?” - -“In the stern-sheets, sir.” - -“How far off was the boat when you last saw it?” - -“About half-a-mile.” - -“Half-a-mile!” exclaimed the captain. “Why, how the deuce could you -see that chest half-a-mile away?” - -The man reddened and cast a look of angry suspicion at Thorndyke. “I -was watching the boat through the glass, sir,” he replied sulkily. - -“I see,” said Captain Grumpass. “Well, that will do, Jeffreys. We -shall have to arrange for you to attend the inquest. Tell Smith I -want to see him.” - -The examination concluded, Thorndyke and I moved our chairs to the -window, which looked out over the sea to the east. But it was not the -sea or the passing ships that engaged my colleague’s attention. On -the wall, beside the window, hung a rudely-carved pipe-rack -containing five pipes. Thorndyke had noted it when we entered the -room, and now, as we talked, I observed him regarding it from time to -time with speculative interest. - -“You men seem to be inveterate smokers,” he remarked to the keeper, -Smith, when the captain had concluded the arrangements for the -“shift.” - -“Well, we do like our bit of ‘baccy, sir, and that’s a fact,” -answered Smith. “You see, sir,” he continued, “it’s a lonely life, -and tobacco’s cheap out here.” - -“How is that?” asked Thorndyke. - -“Why, we get it given to us. The small craft from foreign, especially -the Dutchmen, generally heave us a cake or two when they pass close. -We’re not ashore, you see, so there’s no duty to pay.” - -“So you don’t trouble the tobacconists much? Don’t go in for cut -tobacco?” - -“No, sir; we’d have to buy it, and then the cut stuff wouldn’t keep. -No, it’s hard-tack to eat out here and hard tobacco to smoke.” - -“I see you’ve got a pipe-rack, too, quite a stylish affair.” - -“Yes,” said Smith, “I made it in my off-time. Keeps the place tidy -and looks more ship-shape than letting the pipes lay about anywhere.” - -“Some one seems to have neglected his pipe,” said Thorndyke, pointing -to one at the end of the rack which was coated with green mildew. - -“Yes; that’s Parsons, my mate. He must have left it when he went off -near a month ago. Pipes do go mouldy in the damp air out here.” - -“How soon does a pipe go mouldy if it is left untouched?” Thorndyke -asked. - -“It’s according to the weather,” said Smith. “When it’s warm and damp -they’ll begin to go in about a week. Now here’s Barnett’s pipe that -he’s left behind--the man that broke his leg, you know, sir--it’s -just beginning to spot a little. He couldn’t have used it for a day -or two before he went.” - -“And are all these other pipes yours?” - -“No, sir. This here one is mine. The end one is Jeffreys’, and I -suppose the middle one is his too, but I don’t know it.” - -“You’re a demon for pipes, doctor,” said the captain, strolling up at -this moment; “you seem to make a special study of them.” - -“‘The proper study of mankind is man,’” replied Thorndyke, as the -keeper retired, “and ‘man’ includes those objects on which his -personality is impressed. Now a pipe is a very personal thing. Look -at that row in the rack. Each has its own physiognomy which, in a -measure, reflects the peculiarities of the owner. There is Jeffreys’ -pipe at the end, for instance. The mouthpiece is nearly bitten -through, the bowl scraped to a shell and scored inside and the brim -battered and chipped. The whole thing speaks of rude strength and -rough handling. He chews the stem as he smokes, he scrapes the bowl -violently, and he bangs the ashes out with unnecessary force. And the -man fits the pipe exactly: powerful, square-jawed and, I should say, -violent on occasion.” - -“Yes, he looks a tough customer, does Jeffreys,” agreed the captain. - -“Then,” continued Thorndyke, “there is Smith’s pipe, next to it; -‘coked’ up until the cavity is nearly filled and burnt all round the -edge; a talker’s pipe, constantly going out and being relit. But the -one that interests me most is the middle one.” - -“Didn’t Smith say that was Jeffreys’ too?” I said. - -“Yes,” replied Thorndyke, “but he must be mistaken. It is the very -opposite of Jeffreys’ pipe in every respect. To begin with, although -it is an old pipe, there is not a sign of any tooth-mark on the -mouthpiece. It is the only one in the rack that is quite unmarked. -Then the brim is quite uninjured: it has been handled gently, and the -silver band is jet-black, whereas the band on Jeffreys’ pipe is quite -bright.” - -“I hadn’t noticed that it had a band,” said the captain. “What has -made it so black?” - -Thorndyke lifted the pipe out of the rack and looked at it closely. -“Silver sulphide,” said he, “the sulphur no doubt derived from -something carried in the pocket.” - -“I see,” said Captain Grumpass, smothering a yawn and gazing out of -the window at the distant tender. “Incidentally it’s full of tobacco. -What moral do you draw from that?” - -Thorndyke turned the pipe over and looked closely at the mouthpiece. -“The moral is,” he replied, “that you should see that your pipe is -clear before you fill it.” He pointed to the mouthpiece, the bore of -which was completely stopped up with fine fluff. - -“An excellent moral too,” said the captain, rising with an other -yawn. “If you’ll excuse me a minute I’ll just go and see what the -tender is up to. She seems to be crossing to the East Girdler.” He -reached the telescope down from its brackets and went out onto the -gallery. - -As the captain retreated, Thorndyke opened his pocket knife, and, -sticking the blade into the bowl of the pipe, turned the tobacco out -into his hand. - -“Shag, by Jove!” I exclaimed. - -“Yes,” he answered, poking it back into the bowl. “Didn’t you expect -it to be shag?” - -“I don’t know that I expected anything,” I admitted. “The silver band -was occupying my attention.” - -“Yes, that is an interesting point,” said Thorndyke, “but let us see -what the obstruction consists of.” He opened the green case, and, -taking out a dissecting needle, neatly extracted a little ball of -fluff from the bore of the pipe. Laying this on a glass slide, he -teased it out in a drop of glycerine and put on a cover-glass while I -set up the microscope. - -“Better put the pipe back in the rack,” he said, as he laid the slide -on the stage of the instrument. I did so and then turned, with no -little excitement, to watch him as he examined the specimen. After a -brief inspection he rose and waved his hand towards the microscope. - -“Take a look at it, Jervis,” he said. - -I applied my eye to the instrument, and, moving the slide about, -identified the constituents of the little mass of fluff. The -ubiquitous cotton fibre was, of course, in evidence, and a few fibres -of wool, but the most remarkable objects were two or three -hairs--very minute hairs of a definite zigzag shape and having a flat -expansion near the free end like the blade of a paddle. - -“These are the hairs of some small animal,” I said; “not a mouse or -rat or any rodent, I should say. Some small insectivorous animal, I -fancy. Yes! Of course! They are the hairs of a mole.” I stood up, -and, as the importance of the discovery flashed on me, I looked at my -colleague in silence. - -“Yes,” he said, “they are unmistakable; and they furnish the keystone -of the argument.” - -“You think that this is really the dead man’s pipe, then?” I said. - -“According to the law of multiple evidence,” he replied, “it is -practically a certainty. Consider the facts in sequence. Since there -is no sign of mildew on it, this pipe can have been here only a short -time, and must belong either to Barnett, Smith, Jeffreys or Brown. It -is an old pipe, but it has no tooth-marks on it. Therefore it has -been used by a man who has no teeth. But Barnett, Smith and Jeffreys -all have teeth and mark their pipes, whereas Brown has no teeth. The -tobacco in it is shag. But these three men do not smoke shag, whereas -Brown had shag in his pouch. The silver band is encrusted with -sulphide; and Brown carried sulphur-tipped matches loose in his -pocket with his pipe. We find hairs of a mole in the bore of the -pipe; and Brown carried a mole skin pouch in the pocket in which he -appears to have carried his pipe. Finally, Brown’s pocket contained a -pipe which was obviously not his and which closely resembled that of -Jeffreys; it contained tobacco similar to that which Jeffreys smokes -and different from that in Brown’s pouch. It appears to me quite -conclusive, especially when we add to this evidence the other items -that are in our possession.” - -“What items are they?” I asked. - -“First there is the fact that the dead man had knocked his head -heavily against some periodically submerged body covered with acorn -barnacles and serpulæ. Now the piles of this lighthouse answer to the -description exactly, and there are no other bodies in the -neighbourhood that do: for even the beacons are too large to have -produced that kind of wound. Then the dead man’s sheath-knife is -missing, and Jeffreys has a knife-wound on his hand. You must admit -that the circumstantial evidence is overwhelming.” - -At this moment the captain bustled into the room with the telescope -in his hand. “The tender is coming up towing a strange boat,” he -said. “I expect it’s the missing one, and, if it is, we may learn -something. You’d better pack up your traps and get ready to go on -board.” - -We packed the green case and went out into the gallery, where the two -keepers were watching the approaching tender; Smith frankly curious -and interested, Jeffreys restless, fidgety and noticeably pale. As -the steamer came opposite the lighthouse, three men dropped into the -boat and pulled across, and one of them--the mate of the tender--came -climbing up the ladder. - -“Is that the missing boat?” the captain sang out. - -“Yes, sir,” answered the officer, stepping onto the staging and -wiping his hands on the reverse aspect of his trousers, “we saw her -lying on the dry patch of the East Girdler. There’s been some -hanky-panky in this job, sir.” - -“Foul play, you think, hey?” - -“Not a doubt of it, sir. The plug was out and lying loose in the -bottom, and we found a sheath-knife sticking into the kelson forward -among the coils of the painter. It was stuck in hard as if it had -dropped from a height.” - -“That’s odd,” said the captain. “As to the plug, it might have got -out by accident.” - -“But it hadn’t sir,” said the mate. “The ballast-bags had been -shifted along to get the bottom boards up. Besides, sir, a seaman -wouldn’t let the boat fill; he’d have put the plug back and baled -out.” - -“That’s true,” replied Captain Grumpass; “and certainly the presence -of the knife looks fishy. But where the deuce could it have dropped -from, out in the open sea? Knives don’t drop from the -clouds--fortunately. What do you say, doctor?” - -“I should say that it is Brown’s own knife, and that it probably fell -from this staging.” - -Jeffreys turned swiftly, crimson with wrath. “What d’ye mean?” he -demanded. “Haven’t I said that the boat never came here?” - -“You have,” replied Thorndyke; “but if that is so, how do you explain -the fact that your pipe was found in the dead man’s pocket and that -the dead man’s pipe is at this moment in your pipe-rack?” - -The crimson flush on Jeffreys’ face faded as quickly as it had come. -“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he faltered. - -“I’ll tell you,” said Thorndyke. “I will relate what happened and you -shall check my statements. Brown brought his boat alongside and came -up into the living-room, bringing his chest with him. He filled his -pipe and tried to light it, but it was stopped and wouldn’t draw. -Then you lent him a pipe of yours and filled it for him. Soon -afterwards you came out on this staging and quarrelled. Brown -defended himself with his knife, which dropped from his hand into the -boat. You pushed him off the staging and he fell, knocking his head -on one of the piles. Then you took the plug out of the boat and sent -her adrift to sink, and you flung the chest into the sea. This -happened about ten minutes past twelve. Am I right?” - -Jeffreys stood staring at Thorndyke, the picture of amazement and -consternation; but he uttered no word in reply. - -“Am I right?” Thorndyke repeated. - -“Strike me blind!” muttered Jeffreys. “Was you here, then? You talk -as if you had been. Anyhow,” he continued, recovering somewhat, “you -seem to know all about it. But you’re wrong about one thing. There -was no quarrel. This chap, Brown, didn’t take to me and he didn’t -mean to stay out here. He was going to put off and go ashore again -and I wouldn’t let him. Then he hit out at me with his knife and I -knocked it out of his hand and he staggered backwards and went -overboard.” - -“And did you try to pick him up?” asked the captain. - -“How could I,” demanded Jeffreys, “with the tide racing down and me -alone on the station? I’d never have got back.” - -“But what about the boat, Jeffreys? Why did you scuttle her?” - -“The fact is,” replied Jeffreys, “I got in a funk, and I thought the -simplest plan was to send her to the cellar and know nothing about -it. But I never shoved him over. It was an accident, sir; I swear it!” - -“Well, that sounds a reasonable explanation,” said the captain. “What -do you say, doctor?” - -“Perfectly reasonable,” replied Thorndyke, “and, as to its truth, -that is no affair of ours.” - -“No. But I shall have to take you off, Jeffreys, and hand you over to -the police. You understand that?” - -“Yes, sir, I understand,” answered Jeffreys. - -“That was a queer case, that affair on the Girdler,” remarked Captain -Grumpass, when he was spending an evening with us some six months -later. “A pretty easy let off for Jeffreys, too--eighteen months, -wasn’t it?” - -“Yes, it was a very queer case indeed,” said Thorndyke. “There was -something behind that ‘accident,’ I should say. Those men had -probably met before.” - -“So I thought,” agreed the captain. “But the queerest part of it to -me was the way you nosed it all out. I’ve had a deep respect for -briar pipes since then. It was a remarkable case,” he continued. “The -way in which you made that pipe tell the story of the murder seems to -me like sheer enchantment.” - -“Yes,” said I, “it spoke like the magic pipe--only that wasn’t a -tobacco-pipe--in the German folk-story of the ‘Singing Bone.’ Do you -remember it? A peasant found the bone of a murdered man and fashioned -it into a pipe. But when he tried to play on it, it burst into a song -of its own-- - -_‘My brother slew me and buried my bones Beneath the sand and under -the stones.’”_ - -“A pretty story,” said Thorndyke, “and one with an excellent moral. -The inanimate things around us have each of them a song to sing to us -if we are but ready with attentive ears.” - - - - -A WASTREL’S ROMANCE - - -PART I - -THE SPINSTERS’ GUEST - -The lingering summer twilight was fast merging into night as a -solitary cyclist, whose evening-dress suit was thinly disguised by an -overcoat, rode slowly along a pleasant country road. From time to -time he had been overtaken and passed by a carriage, a car or a -closed cab from the adjacent town, and from the festive garb of the -occupants he had made shrewd guesses at their destination. His own -objective was a large house, standing in somewhat extensive grounds -just off the road, and the peculiar circumstances that surrounded his -visit to it caused him to ride more and more slowly as he approached -his goal. - -Willowdale--such was the name of the house--was, to-night, witnessing -a temporary revival of its past glories. For many months it had been -empty and a notice-board by the gate-keeper’s lodge had silently -announced its forlorn state; but to-night, its rooms, their bare -walls clothed in flags and draperies, their floors waxed or carpeted, -would once more echo the sound of music and cheerful voices and -vibrate to the tread of many feet. For on this night the spinsters of -Raynesford were giving a dance; and chief amongst the spinsters was -Miss Halliwell, the owner of Willowdale. - -It was a great occasion. The house was large and imposing; the -spinsters were many and their purses were long. The guests were -numerous and distinguished, and included no less a person than Mrs. -Jehu B. Chater. This was the crowning triumph of the function, for -the beautiful American widow was the lion (or should we say lioness?) -of the season. Her wealth was, if not beyond the dreams of avarice, -at least beyond the powers of common British arithmetic, and her -diamonds were, at once, the glory and the terror of her hostesses. - -All these attractions notwithstanding, the cyclist approached the -vicinity of Willowdale with a slowness almost hinting at reluctance; -and when, at length, a curve of the road brought the gates into view, -he dismounted and halted irresolutely. He was about to do a rather -risky thing, and, though by no means a man of weak nerve, he -hesitated to make the plunge. - -The fact is, he had not been invited. - -Why, then, was he going? And how was he to gain admittance? To which -questions the answer involves a painful explanation. - -Augustus Bailey lived by his wits. That is the common phrase, and a -stupid phrase it is. For do we not all live by our wits, if we have -any? And does it need any specially brilliant wits to be a common -rogue? However, such as his wits were, Augustus Bailey lived by them, -and he had not hitherto made a fortune. - -The present venture arose out of a conversation overheard at a -restaurant table and an invitation-card carelessly laid down and -adroitly covered with the menu. Augustus had accepted the invitation -that he had not received (on a sheet of Hotel Cecil notepaper that he -had among his collection of stationery) in the name of Geoffrey -Harrington-Baillie; and the question that exercised his mind at the -moment was, would he or would he not be spotted? He had trusted to -the number of guests and the probable inexperience of the hostesses. -He knew that the cards need not be shown, though there was the -awkward ceremony of announcement. - -But perhaps it wouldn’t get as far as that. Probably not, if his -acceptance had been detected as emanating from an uninvited stranger. - -He walked slowly towards the gates with growing discomfort. Added to -his nervousness as to the present were certain twinges of -reminiscence. He had once held a commission in a line regiment--not -for long, indeed; his “wits” had been too much for his brother -officers--but there had been a time when he would have come to such a -gathering as this an invited guest. Now, a common thief, he was -sneaking in under a false name, with a fair prospect of being -ignominiously thrown out by the servants. - -As he stood hesitating, the sound of hoofs on the road was followed -by the aggressive bellow of a motor-horn. The modest twinkle of -carriage lamps appeared round the curve and then the glare of -acetylene headlights. A man came out of the lodge and drew open the -gates; and Mr. Bailey, taking his courage in both hands, boldly -trundled his machine up the drive. - -Half-way up--it was quite a steep incline--the car whizzed by; a -large Napier filled with a bevy of young men who economized space by -sitting on the backs of the seats and on one another’s knees. Bailey -looked at them and decided that this was his chance, and, pushing -forward, he saw his bicycle safely bestowed in the empty coach-house -and then hurried on to the cloak-room. The young men had arrived -there before him and, as he entered, were gaily peeling off their -over coats and flinging them down on a table. Bailey followed their -example, and, in his eagerness to enter the reception room with the -crowd, let his attention wander from the business of the moment, and, -as he pocketed the ticket and hurried away, he failed to notice that -the bewildered attendant had put his hat with another man’s coat and -affixed his duplicate to them both. - -“Major Podbury, Captain Barker-Jones, Captain Sparker, Mr. Watson, -Mr. Goldsmith, Mr. Smart, _Mr. Harrington Baillie!_’ - -As Augustus swaggered up the room, hugging the party of officers and -quaking inwardly, he was conscious that his hostesses glanced from -one man to another with more than common interest. - -But at that moment the footman’s voice rang out, sonorous and clear-- - -“Mrs. Chater, Colonel Crumpler!” and, as all eyes were turned towards -the new arrivals, Augustus made his bow and passed into the throng. -His little game of bluff had “come off,” after all. - -He withdrew modestly into the more crowded portion of the room, and -there took up a position where he would be shielded from the gaze of -his hostesses. Presently, he reflected, they would forget him, if -they had really thought about him at all, and then he would see what -could be done in the way of business. He was still rather shaky, and -wondered how soon it would be decent to steady his nerves with a -“refresher.” Meanwhile he kept a sharp look-out over the shoulders of -neighbouring guests, until a movement in the crowd of guests -disclosed Mrs. Chater shaking hands with the presiding spinster. Then -Augustus got a most uncommon surprise. - -He knew her at the first glance. He had a good memory for faces, and -Mrs. Chater’s face was one to remember. Well did he recall the frank -and lovely American girl with whom he had danced at the regimental -ball years ago. That was in the old days when he was a subaltern, and -before that little affair of the pricked court-cards that brought his -military career to an end. They had taken a mutual liking, he -remembered, that sweet-faced Yankee maid and he; had danced many -dances and had sat out others, to talk mystical nonsense which, in -their innocence, they had believed to be philosophy. He had never -seen her since. She had come into his life and gone out of it again, -and he had forgotten her name, if he had ever known it. But here she -was, middle aged now, it was true, but still beautiful and a great -personage withal. And, ye gods! what diamonds! And here was he, too, -a common rogue, lurking in the crowd that he might, perchance, snatch -a pendant or “pinch” a loose brooch. - -Perhaps she might recognize him. Why not? He had recognized her. But -that would never do. And thus reflecting, Mr. Bailey slipped out to -stroll on the lawn and smoke a cigarette. Another man, somewhat older -than himself, was pacing to and fro thoughtfully, glancing from time -to time through the open windows into the brilliantly-lighted rooms. -When they had passed once or twice, the stranger halted and addressed -him. - -“This is the best place on a night like this,” he remarked; “it’s -getting hot inside already. But perhaps you’re keen on dancing.” - -“Not so keen as I used to be,” replied Bailey; and then, observing -the hungry look that the other man was bestowing on his cigarette, he -produced his case and offered it. - -“Thanks awfully!” exclaimed the stranger, pouncing with avidity on -the open case. “Good Samaritan, by Jove. Left my case in my overcoat. -Hadn’t the cheek to ask, though I was starving for a smoke.” He -inhaled luxuriously, and, blowing out a cloud of smoke, resumed: -“These chits seem to be running the show pretty well, h’m? Wouldn’t -take it for an empty house to look at it, would you?” - -“I have hardly seen it,” said Bailey; “only just come, you know.” - -“We’ll have a look round, if you like,” said the genial stranger, -“when we’ve finished our smoke, that is. Have a drink too; may cool -us a bit. Know many people here?” - -“Not a soul,” replied Bailey. “My hostess doesn’t seem to have turned -up.” - -“Well, that’s easily remedied,” said the stranger. “My daughter’s one -of the spinsters--Granby, my name; when we’ve had a drink, I’ll make -her find you a partner--that is, if you care for the light fantastic.” - -“I should like a dance or two,” said Bailey, “though I’m getting a -bit past it now, I suppose. Still, it doesn’t do to chuck up the -sponge prematurely.” - -“Certainly not,” Granby agreed jovially; “a man’s as young as he -feels. Well, come and have a drink and then we’ll hunt up my little -girl.” The two men flung away the stumps of their cigarettes and -headed for the refreshments. - -The spinsters’ champagne was light, but it was well enough if taken -in sufficient quantity; a point to which Augustus--and Granby -too--paid judicious attention; and when he had supplemented the wine -with a few sandwiches, Mr. Bailey felt in notably better spirits. -For, to tell the truth, his diet, of late, had been somewhat meagre. -Miss Granby, when found, proved to be a blonde and guileless -“flapper” of some seventeen summers, childishly eager to play her -part of hostess with due dignity; and presently Bailey found himself -gyrating through the eddying crowd in company with a comely matron of -thirty or thereabouts. - -The sensations that this novel experience aroused rather took him by -surprise. For years past he had been living a precarious life of mean -and sordid shifts that oscillated between mere shabby trickery and -downright crime; now conducting a paltry swindle just inside the pale -of the law, and now, when hard pressed, descending to actual theft; -consorting with shady characters, swindlers and knaves and scurvy -rogues like himself; gambling, borrowing, cadging and, if need be, -stealing, and always slinking abroad with an apprehensive eye upon -“the man in blue.” - -And now, amidst the half-forgotten surroundings, once so familiar; -the gaily-decorated rooms, the rhythmic music, the twinkle of jewels, -the murmur of gliding feet and the rustle of costly gowns, the moving -vision of honest gentlemen and fair ladies; the shameful years seemed -to drop away and leave him to take up the thread of his life where it -had snapped so disastrously. After all, these were his own people. -The seedy knaves in whose steps he had walked of late were but aliens -met by the way. - -He surrendered his partner, in due course, with regret--which was -mutual--to an inarticulate subaltern, and was meditating another -pilgrimage to the refreshment-room, when he felt a light touch upon -his arm. He turned swiftly. A touch on the arm meant more to him than -to some men. But it was no wooden-faced plain-clothes man that he -confronted; it was only a lady. In short, it was Mrs. Chater, smiling -nervously and a little abashed by her own boldness. - -“I expect you’ve forgotten me,” she began apologetically, but -Augustus interrupted her with an eager disclaimer. - -“Of course I haven’t,” he said; “though I have forgotten your name, -but I remember that Portsmouth dance as well as if it were yesterday; -at least one incident in it--the only one that was worth remembering. -I’ve often hoped that I might meet you again, and now, at last, it -has happened.” - -“It’s nice of you to remember,” she rejoined. “I’ve often and often -thought of that evening and all the wonderful things that we talked -about. You were a nice boy then; I wonder what you are like now. What -a long time ago it is!” - -“Yes,” Augustus agreed gravely, “it _is_ a long time. I know it -myself; but when I look at you, it seems as if it could only have -been last season.” - -“Oh, fie!” she exclaimed. “You are not simple as you used to be. You -didn’t flatter then; but perhaps there wasn’t the need.” She spoke -with gentle reproach, but her pretty face flushed with pleasure -nevertheless, and there was a certain wistfulness in the tone of her -concluding sentence. - -“I wasn’t flattering,” Augustus replied, quite sincerely; “I knew you -directly you entered the room and marvelled that Time had been so -gentle with you. He hasn’t been as kind to me.” - -“No. You have gotten a few grey hairs, I see, but after all, what are -grey hairs to a man? Just the badges of rank, like the crown on your -collar or the lace on your cuffs, to mark the steps of your -promotion--for I guess you’ll be a colonel by now.” - -“No,” Augustus answered quickly, with a faint flush, “I left the army -some years ago.” - -“My! what a pity!” exclaimed Mrs. Chater. “You must tell me all about -it--but not now. My partner will be looking for me. We will sit out a -dance and have a real gossip. But I’ve forgotten your name--never -could recall it, in fact, though that didn’t prevent me from -remembering you; but, as our dear W. S. remarks, ‘What’s in a name?’” - -“Ah, indeed,” said Mr. Harrington-Baillie; and apropos of that -sentiment, he added: “Mine is Rowland--Captain Rowland. You may -remember it now.” - -Mrs. Chater did not, however, and said so. “Will number six do?” she -asked, opening her programme; and, when Augustus had assented, she -entered his provisional name, remarking complacently: “We’ll sit out -and have a right-down good talk, and you shall tell me all about -yourself and if you still think the same about free-will and personal -responsibility. You had very lofty ideals, I remember, in those days, -and I hope you have still. But one’s ideals get rubbed down rather -faint in the friction of life. Don’t you think so?” - -“Yes, I am afraid you’re right,” Augustus assented gloomily. “The -wear and tear of life soon fetches the gilt off the gingerbread. -Middle age is apt to find us a bit patchy, not to say naked.” - -“Oh, don’t be pessimistic,” said Mrs. Chater; “that is the attitude -of the disappointed idealist, and I am sure you have no reason, -really, to be disappointed in yourself. But I must run away now. -Think over all the things you have to tell me, and don’t forget that -it is number six.” With a bright smile and a friendly nod she sailed -away, a vision of glittering splendour, compared with which Solomon -in all his glory was a mere matter of commonplace bullion. - -The interview, evidently friendly and familiar, between the unknown -guest and the famous American widow had by no means passed unnoticed; -and in other circumstances, Bailey might have endeavoured to profit -by the reflected glory that enveloped him. But he was not in search -of notoriety; and the same evasive instinct that had led him to sink -Mr. Harrington-Baillie in Captain Rowland, now advised him to -withdraw his dual personality from the vulgar gaze. He had come here -on very definite business. For the hundredth time he was -“stony-broke,” and it was the hope of picking up some “unconsidered -trifles” that had brought him. But, somehow, the atmosphere of the -place had proved unfavourable. Either opportunities were lacking or -he failed to seize them. In any case, the game pocket that formed an -unconventional feature of his dress-coat was still empty, and it -looked as if a pleasant evening and a good supper were all that he -was likely to get. Nevertheless, be his conduct never so blameless, -the fact remained that he was an uninvited guest, liable at any -moment to be ejected as an impostor, and his recognition by the widow -had not rendered this possibility any the more remote. - -He strayed out onto the lawn, whence the grounds fell away on all -sides. But there were other guests there, cooling themselves after -the last dance, and the light from the rooms streamed through the -windows, illuminating their figures, and among them, that of the -too-companionable Granby. Augustus quickly drew away from the lighted -area, and, chancing upon a narrow path, strolled away along it in the -direction of a copse or shrubbery that he saw ahead. Presently he -came to an ivy-covered arch, lighted by one or two fairy lamps, and, -passing through this, he entered a winding path, bordered by trees -and shrubs and but faintly lighted by an occasional coloured lamp -suspended from a branch. - -Already he was quite clear of the crowd; indeed, the deserted -condition of the pleasant retreat rather surprised him, until he -reflected that to couples desiring seclusion there were whole ranges -of untenanted rooms and galleries available in the empty house. - -The path sloped gently downwards for some distance; then came a long -flight of rustic steps and, at the bottom, a seat between two trees. -In front of the seat the path extended in a straight line, forming a -narrow terrace; on the right the ground sloped up steeply towards the -lawn; on the left it fell away still more steeply towards the -encompassing wall of the grounds; and on both sides it was covered -with trees and shrubs. - -Bailey sat down on the seat to think over the account of himself that -he should present to Mrs. Chater. It was a comfortable seat, built -into the trunk of an elm, which formed one end and part of the back. -He leaned against the tree, and, taking out his silver case, selected -a cigarette. But it remained unlighted between his fingers as he sat -and meditated upon his unsatisfactory past and the melancholy tale of -what might have been. Fresh from the atmosphere of refined opulence -that pervaded the dancing-rooms, the throng of well-groomed men and -dainty women, his mind travelled back to his sordid little flat in -Bermondsey, encompassed by poverty and squalor, jostled by lofty -factories, grimy with the smoke of the river and the reek from the -great chimneys. It was a hideous contrast. Verily the way of the -transgressor was not strewn with flowers. - -At that point in his meditations he caught the sound of voices and -footsteps on the path above and rose to walk on along the path. He -did not wish to be seen wandering alone in the shrubbery. But now a -woman’s laugh sounded from somewhere down the path. There were people -approaching that way too. He put the cigarette back in the case and -stepped round behind the seat, intending to retreat in that -direction, but here the path ended, and beyond was nothing but a -rugged slope down to the wall thickly covered with bushes. And while -he was hesitating, the sound of feet descending the steps and the -rustle of a woman’s dress left him to choose between staying where he -was or coming out to confront the newcomers. He chose the former, -drawing up close behind the tree to wait until they should have -passed on. - -But they were not going to pass on. One of them--a woman--sat down on -the seat, and then a familiar voice smote on his ear. “I guess I’ll -rest here quietly for a while; this tooth of mine is aching terribly; -and, see here, I want you to go and fetch me something. Take this -ticket to the cloak-room and tell the woman to give you my little -velvet bag. You’ll find in it a bottle of chloroform and a packet of -cotton-wool.” - -“But I can’t leave you here all alone, Mrs. Chater,” her partner -expostulated. - -“I’m not hankering for society just now,” said Mrs. Chater. “I want -that chloroform. Just you hustle off and fetch it, like a good boy. -Here’s the ticket.” - -The young officer’s footsteps retreated rapidly, and the voices of -the couple advancing along the path grew louder. Bailey, cursing the -chance that had placed him in his ridiculous and uncomfortable -position, heard them approach and pass on up the steps; and then all -was silent, save for an Occasional moan from Mrs. Chater and the -measured creaking of the seat as she rocked uneasily to and fro. But -the young man was uncommonly prompt in the discharge of his mission, -and in a very few minutes Bailey heard him approaching at a run along -the path above and then bounding down the steps. - -“Now I call that real good of you,” said the widow gratefully. “You -must have run like the wind. Cut the string of the packet and then -leave me to wrestle with this tooth.” - -“But I can’t leave you here all----” - -“Yes, you can,” interrupted Mrs. Chater. “There won’t be any one -about--the next dance is a waltz. Besides, you must go and find your -partner.” - -“Well, if you’d really rather be alone,” the subaltern began; but -Mrs. Chater interrupted him. - -“Of course I would, when I’m fixing up my teeth. Now go along, and a -thousand thanks for your kindness.” - -With mumbled protestations the young officer slowly retired, and -Bailey heard his reluctant feet ascending the steps. Then a deep -silence fell on the place in which the rustle of paper and the squeak -of a withdrawn cork seemed loud and palpable. Bailey had turned with -his face towards the tree, against which he leaned with his lips -parted scarcely daring to breathe. He cursed himself again and again -for having thus entrapped himself for no tangible reason, and longed -to get away. But there was no escape now without betraying himself. -He must wait for the woman to go. - -Suddenly, beyond the edge of the tree, a hand appeared holding an -open packet of cotton-wool. It laid the wool down on the seat, and, -pinching off a fragment, rolled it into a tiny ball. The fingers of -the hand were encircled by rings, its wrist enclosed by a broad -bracelet; and from rings and bracelet the light of the solitary -fairy-lamp, that hung from a branch of the tree, was reflected in -prismatic sparks. The hand was withdrawn and Bailey stared dreamily -at the square pad of cotton-wool. Then the hand came again into view. -This time it held a small phial which it laid softly on the seat, -setting the cork beside it. And again the light flashed in -many-coloured scintillations from the encrusting gems. - -Bailey’s knees began to tremble, and a chilly moisture broke out upon -his forehead. - -The hand drew back, but, as it vanished, Bailey moved his head -silently until his face emerged from behind the tree. The woman was -leaning back, her head resting against the trunk only a few inches -away from his face. The great stones of the tiara flashed in his very -eyes. Over her shoulder, he could even see the gorgeous pendant, -rising and falling on her bosom with ever-changing fires; and both -her raised hands were a mass of glitter and sparkle, only the deeper -and richer for the subdued light. - -His heart throbbed with palpable blows that drummed aloud in his -ears. The sweat trickled clammily down his face, and he clenched his -teeth to keep them from chattering. An agony of horror--of deadly -fear--was creeping over him--a terror of the dreadful impulse that -was stealing away his reason and his will. - -The silence was profound. The woman’s soft breathing, the creak of -her bodice, were plainly--grossly--audible; and he checked his own -breath until he seemed on the verge of suffocation. - -Of a sudden through the night air was borne faintly the dreamy music -of a waltz. The dance had begun. The distant sound but deepened the -sense of solitude in this deserted spot. - -Bailey listened intently. He yearned to escape from the invisible -force that seemed to be clutching at his wrists, and dragging him -forward inexorably to his doom. - -He gazed down at the woman with a horrid fascination. He struggled to -draw back out of sight--and struggled in vain. - -Then, at last, with a horrible, stealthy deliberation, a clammy, -shaking hand crept forward towards the seat. Without a sound it -grasped the wool, and noiselessly, slowly drew back. Again it stole -forth. The fingers twined snakily around the phial, lifted it from -the seat and carried it back into the shadow. - -After a few seconds it reappeared and softly replaced the bottle--now -half empty. There was a brief pause. The measured cadences of the -waltz stole softly through the quiet night and seemed to keep time -with the woman’s breathing. Other sound there was none. The place was -wrapped in the silence of the grave. - -Suddenly, from the hiding-place, Bailey leaned forward over the back -of the seat. The pad of cotton-wool was in his hand. - -The woman was now leaning back as if dozing, and her hands rested in -her lap. There was a swift movement. The pad was pressed against her -face and her head dragged back against the chest of the invisible -assailant. A smothered gasp burst from her hidden lips as her hands -flew up to clutch at the murderous arm; and then came a frightful -struggle, made even more frightful by the gay and costly trappings of -the writhing victim. And still there was hardly a sound; only muffled -gasps, the rustle of silk, the creaking of the seat, the clink of the -falling bottle and, afar off, with dreadful irony, the dreamy murmur -of the waltz. - -The struggle was but brief. Quite suddenly the jewelled hands -dropped, the head lay resistless on the crumpled shirt-front, and the -body, now limp and inert, began to slip forward off the seat. Bailey, -still grasping the passive head, climbed over the back of the seat -and, as the woman slid gently to the ground, he drew away the pad and -stooped over her. The struggle was over now; the mad fury of the -moment was passing swiftly into the chill of mortal fear. - -He stared with incredulous horror into the swollen face, but now so -comely, the sightless eyes that but a little while since had smiled -into his with such kindly recognition. - -He had done this! He, the sneaking wastrel, discarded of all the -world, to whom this sweet woman had held out the hand of friendship. -She had cherished his memory, when to all others he was sunk deep -under the waters of oblivion. And he had killed her--for to his ear -no breath of life seemed to issue from those purple lips. - -A sudden hideous compunction for this irrevocable thing that he had -done surged through him, and he stood up clutching at his damp hair -with a hoarse cry that was like the cry of the damned. - -The jewels passed straightaway out of his consciousness. Everything -was forgotten now but the horror of this unspeakable thing that he -had done. Remorse incurable and haunting fear were all that were left -to him. - -The sound of voices far away along the path aroused him, and the -vague horror that possessed him materialized into abject bodily fear. -He lifted the limp body to the edge of the path and let it slip down -the steep declivity among the bushes. A soft, shuddering sigh came -from the parted lips as the body turned over, and he paused a moment -to listen. But there was no other sound of life. Doubtless that sigh -was only the result of the passive movement. - -Again he stood for an instant as one in a dream, gazing at the -huddled shape half hidden by the bushes, before he climbed back to -the path; and even then he looked back once more, but now she was -hidden from sight. And, as the voices drew nearer, he turned, and ran -up the rustic steps. - -As he came out on the edge of the lawn the music ceased, and, almost -immediately, a stream of people issued from the house. Shaken as he -was, Bailey yet had wits enough left to know that his clothes and -hair were disordered and that his appearance must be wild. -Accordingly he avoided the dancers, and, keeping to the margin of the -lawn, made his way to the cloak-room by the least frequented route. -If he had dared, he would have called in at the refreshment-room, for -he was deadly faint and his limbs shook as he walked. But a haunting -fear pursued him and, indeed, grew from moment to moment. He found -himself already listening for the rumour of the inevitable discovery. - -He staggered into the cloak-room, and, flinging his ticket down on -the table, dragged out his watch. The attendant looked at him -curiously and, pausing with the ticket in his hand, asked -sympathetically: “Not feeling very well, sir?” - -“No,” said Bailey. “So beastly hot in there.” - -“You ought to have a glass of champagne, sir, before you start,” said -the man. - -“No time,” replied Bailey, holding out a shaky hand for his coat. -“Shall lose my train if I’m not sharp.” - -At this hint the attendant reached down the coat and hat, holding up -the former for its owner to slip his arms into the sleeves. But -Bailey snatched it from him, and, flinging it over his arm, put on -his hat and hurried away to the coach-house. Here, again, the -attendant stared at him in astonishment, which was not lessened when -Bailey, declining his offer to help him on with his coat, bundled the -latter under his arm, clicked the lever of the “variable” on to the -ninety gear, sprang onto the machine and whirled away down the steep -drive, a grotesque vision of flying coat-tails. - -“You haven’t lit your lamp, sir,” roared the attendant; but Bailey’s -ears were deaf to all save the clamour of the expected pursuit. - -Fortunately the drive entered the road obliquely, or Bailey must have -been flung into the opposite hedge. As it was, the machine, rushing -down the slope, flew out into the road with terrific velocity; nor -did its speed diminish then, for its rider, impelled by mortal -terror, trod the pedals with the fury of a madman. And still, as the -machine whizzed along the dark and silent road, his ears were -strained to catch the clatter of hoofs or the throb of a motor from -behind. - -He knew the country well, in fact, as a precaution, he had cycled -over the district only the day before; and he was ready, at any -suspicious sound, to slip down any of the lanes or byways, secure of -finding his way. But still he sped on, and still no sound from the -rear came to tell him of the dread discovery. - -When he had ridden about three miles, he came to the foot of a steep -hill. Here he had to dismount and push his machine up the incline, -which he did at such speed that he arrived at the top quite -breathless. Before mounting again he determined to put on his coat, -for his appearance was calculated to attract attention, if nothing -more. It was only half-past eleven, and presently he would pass -through the streets of a small town. Also he would light his lamp. It -would be fatal to be stopped by a patrol or rural constable. - -Having lit his lamp and hastily put on his coat he once more listened -intently, looking back over the country that was darkly visible from -the summit of the hill. No moving lights were to be seen, no ringing -hoofs or throbbing engines to be heard, and, turning to mount, he -instinctively felt in his overcoat pocket for his gloves. - -A pair of gloves came out in his hand, but he was instantly conscious -that they were not his. A silk muffler was there also; a white one. -But his muffler was black. - -With a sudden shock of terror he thrust his hand into the -ticket-pocket, where he had put his latch-key. There was no key -there; only an amber cigar-holder, which he had never seen before. He -stood for a few moments in utter consternation. He had taken the -wrong coat. Then he had left his own coat behind. A cold sweat of -fear broke out afresh on his face as he realized this. His Yale -latch-key was in its pocket; not that that mattered very much. He had -a duplicate at home, and, as to getting in, well, he knew his own -outside door and his tool-bag contained one or two trifles not -usually found in cyclists’ tool-bags. The question was whether that -coat contained anything that could disclose his identity. And then -suddenly he remembered, with a gasp of relief, that he had carefully -turned the pockets out before starting. - -No; once let him attain the sanctuary of his grimy little flat, -wedged in as it was between the great factories by the river-side, -and he would be safe: safe from everything but the horror of himself, -and the haunting vision of a jewelled figure huddled up in a silken -heap beneath the bushes. - -With a last look round he mounted his machine, and, driving it over -the brow of the hill, swept away into the darkness. - - -PART II - -MUNERA PULVERIS - -(_Related by Christopher Jervis, M.D._) - -It is one of the drawbacks of medicine as a profession that one is -never rid of one’s responsibilities. The merchant, the lawyer, the -civil servant, each at the appointed time locks up his desk, puts on -his hat and goes forth a free man with an interval of uninterrupted -leisure before him. Not so the doctor. Whether at work or at play, -awake or asleep, he is the servant of humanity, at the instant -disposal of friend or stranger alike whose need may make the -necessary claim. - -When I agreed to accompany my wife to the spinsters’ dance at -Raynesford, I imagined that, for that evening, at least, I was -definitely off duty; and in that belief I continued until the -conclusion of the eighth dance. To be quite truthful, I was not sorry -when the delusion was shattered. My last partner was a young lady of -a slanginess of speech that verged on the inarticulate. Now it is not -easy to exchange ideas in “pidgin” English; and the conversation of a -person to whom all things are either “ripping” or “rotten” is apt to -lack subtlety. In fact, I was frankly bored; and, reflecting on the -utility of the humble sandwich as an aid to conversation, I was about -to entice my partner to the refreshment room when I felt some one -pluck at my sleeve. I turned quickly and looked into the anxious and -rather frightened face of my wife. - -“Miss Halliwell is looking for you,” she said. “A lady has been taken -ill. Will you come and see what is the matter?” She took my arm and, -when I had made my apologies to my partner, she hurried me on to the -lawn. - -“It’s a mysterious affair,” my wife continued. “The sick lady is a -Mrs. Chater, a very wealthy American widow. Edith Halliwell and Major -Podbury found her lying in the shrubbery all alone and unable to give -any account of herself. Poor Edith is dreadfully upset. She doesn’t -know what to think.” - -“What do you mean?” I began; but at this moment Miss Halliwell, who -was waiting by an ivy-covered rustic arch, espied us and ran forward. - -“Oh, do hurry, please, Dr. Jervis,” she exclaimed; “such a shocking -thing has happened. Has Juliet told you?” Without waiting for an -answer, she darted through the arch and preceded us along a narrow -path at the curious, flat-footed, shambling trot common to most adult -women. Presently we descended a flight of rustic steps which brought -us to a seat, from whence extended a straight path cut like a -miniature terrace on a steep slope, with a high bank rising to the -right and declivity falling away to the left. Down in the hollow, his -head and shoulders appearing above the bushes, was a man holding in -his hand a fairy-lamp that he had apparently taken down from a tree. -I climbed down to him, and, as I came round the bushes, I perceived a -richly-dressed woman lying huddled on the ground. She was not -completely insensible, for she moved slightly at my approach, -muttering a few words in thick, indistinct accents. I took the lamp -from the man, whom I assumed to be Major Podbury, and, as he -delivered it to me with a significant glance and a faint lift of the -eyebrows, I understood Miss Halliwell’s agitation. - -Indeed, for one horrible moment I thought that she was right--that -the prostrate woman was intoxicated. But when I approached nearer, -the flickering light of the lamp made visible a square reddened patch -on her face, like the impression of a mustard plaster, covering the -nose and mouth; and then I scented mischief of a more serious kind. - -“We had better carry her up to the seat,” I said, handing the lamp to -Miss Halliwell. “Then we can consider moving her to the house.” The -major and I lifted the helpless woman and, having climbed cautiously -up to the path, laid her on the seat. - -“What is it, Dr. Jervis?” Miss Halliwell whispered. - -“I can’t say at the moment,” I replied; “but it’s not what you -feared.” - -“Thank God for that!” was her fervent rejoinder. “It would have been -a shocking scandal.” - -I took the dim lamp and once more bent over the half-conscious woman. -Her appearance puzzled me not a little. She looked like a person -recovering from an anaesthetic, but the square red patch on her face, -recalling, as it did, the Burke murders, rather suggested -suffocation. As I was thus reflecting, the light of the lamp fell on -a white object lying on the ground behind the seat, and holding the -lamp forward, I saw that it was a square pad of cotton-wool. The -coincidence of its shape and size with that of the red patch on the -woman’s face instantly struck me, and I stooped down to pick it up; -and then I saw, lying under the seat, a small bottle. This also I -picked up and held in the lamplight. It was a one-ounce phial, quite -empty, and was labelled “Methylated Chloroform.” Here seemed to be a -complete explanation of the thick utterance and drunken aspect; but -it was an explanation that required, in its turn, to be explained. -Obviously no robbery had been committed, for the woman literally -glittered with diamonds. Equally obviously she had not administered -the chloroform to herself. - -There was nothing for it but to carry her indoors and await her -further recovery, so, with the major’s help, we conveyed her through -the shrubbery and kitchen garden to a side door, and deposited her on -a sofa in a half-furnished room. - -Here, under the influence of water dabbed on her face and the -plentiful use of smelling salts, she quickly revived, and was soon -able to give an intelligible account of herself. - -The chloroform and cotton-wool were her own. She had used them for an -aching tooth; and she was sitting alone on the seat with the bottle -and the wool beside her when the incomprehensible thing had happened. -Without a moment’s warning a hand had come from behind her and -pressed the pad of wool over her nose and mouth. The wool was -saturated with chloroform, and she had lost consciousness almost -immediately. - -“You didn’t see the person, then?” I asked. - -“No, but I know he was in evening dress, because I felt my head -against his shirt-front.” - -“Then,” said I, “he is either here still or he has been to the -cloak-room. He couldn’t have left the place without an overcoat.” - -“No, by Jove!” exclaimed the major; “that’s true. I’ll go and make -inquiries.” He strode away all agog, and I, having satisfied myself -that Mrs. Chater could be left safely, followed him almost -immediately. - -I made my way straight to the cloak-room, and here I found the major -and one or two of his brother officers putting on their coats in a -flutter of gleeful excitement. - -“He’s gone,” said Podbury, struggling frantically into his overcoat; -“went off nearly an hour ago on a bicycle. Seemed in a deuce of a -stew, the attendant says, and no wonder. We’re goin’ after him in our -car. Care to join the hunt?” - -“No, thanks. I must stay with the patient. But how do you know you’re -after the right man?” - -“Isn’t any other. Only one Johnnie’s left. Besides--here, confound -it! you’ve given me the wrong coat!” He tore off the garment and -handed it back to the attendant, who regarded it with an expression -of dismay. - -“Are you sure, sir?” he asked. - -“Perfectly,” said the major. “Come, hurry up, my man.” - -“I’m afraid, sir,” said the attendant, “that the gentleman who has -gone has taken your coat. They were on the same peg, I know. I am -very sorry, sir.” - -The major was speechless with wrath. What the devil was the good of -being sorry; and how the deuce was he to get his coat back? - -“But,” I interposed, “if the stranger has got your coat, then this -coat must be his.” - -“I know,” said Podbury; “but I don’t want his beastly coat.” - -“No,” I replied, “but it may be useful for identification.” - -This appeared to afford the bereaved officer little consolation, but -as the car was now ready, he bustled away, and I, having directed the -man to put the coat away in a safe place, went back to my patient. - -Mrs. Chater was by now fairly recovered, and had developed a highly -vindictive interest in her late assailant. She even went so far as to -regret that he had not taken at least some of her diamonds, so that -robbery might have been added to the charge of attempted murder, and -expressed the earnest hope that the officers would not be foolishly -gentle in their treatment of him when they caught him. - -“By the way, Dr. Jervis,” said Miss Halliwell, “I think I ought to -mention a rather curious thing that happened in connection with this -dance. We received an acceptance from a Mr. Harrington-Baillie, who -wrote from the Hotel Cecil. Now I am certain that no such name was -proposed by any of the spinsters.” - -“But didn’t you ask them?” I inquired. - -“Well, the fact is,” she replied, “that one of them, Miss Waters, had -to go abroad suddenly, and we had not got her address; and as it was -possible that she might have invited him, I did not like to move in -the matter. I am very sorry I didn’t now. We may have let in a -regular criminal--though why he should have wanted to murder Mrs. -Chater I cannot imagine.” - -It was certainly a mysterious affair, and the mystery was in no wise -dispelled by the return of the search party an hour later. It seemed -that the bicycle had been tracked for a couple of miles towards -London, but then, at the cross-roads, the tracks had become -hopelessly mixed with the impressions of other machines and the -officers, after cruising about vaguely for a while, had given up the -hunt and returned. - -“You see, Mrs. Chater,” Major Podbury explained apologetically, “the -fellow must have had a good hour’s start, and that would have brought -him pretty close to London.” - -“Do you mean to tell me,” exclaimed Mrs. Chater, regarding the major -with hardly-concealed contempt, “that that villain has got off -scot-free?” - -“Looks rather like it,” replied Podbury, “but if I were you I should -get the man’s description from the attendants who saw him and go up -to Scotland Yard tomorrow. They may know the Johnny there, and they -may even recognize the coat if you take it with you.” - -“That doesn’t seem very likely,” said Mrs. Chater, and it certainly -did not; but since no better plan could be suggested the lady decided -to adopt it; and I supposed that I had heard the last of the matter. - -In this, however, I was mistaken. On the following day, just before -noon, as I was drowsily considering the points in a brief dealing -with a question of survivorship, while Thorndyke drafted his weekly -lecture, a smart rat-tat at the door of our chambers announced a -visitor. I rose wearily--I had had only four hours’ sleep--and opened -the door, whereupon there sailed into the room no less a person than -Mrs. Chater, followed by Superintendent Miller, with a grin on his -face and a brown-paper parcel under his arm. - -The lady was not in the best of tempers, though wonderfully lively -and alert considering the severe shock that she had suffered so -recently, and her disapproval of Miller was frankly obvious. - -“Dr. Jervis has probably told you about the attempt to murder me last -night,” she said, when I had introduced her to my colleague. “Well, -now, will you believe it? I have been to the police, I have given -them a description of the murderous villain, and I have even shown -them the very coat that he wore, and they tell me that nothing can be -done. That, in short, this scoundrel must be allowed to go his way -free and unmolested.” - -“You will observe, doctor,” said Miller, “that this lady has given us -a description that would apply to fifty per cent. of the middle-class -men of the United Kingdom, and has shown us a coat without a single -identifying mark of any kind on it, and expects us to lay our hands -on the owner without a solitary clue to guide us. Now we are not -sorcerers at the Yard; we’re only policemen. So I have taken the -liberty of referring Mrs. Chater to you.” He grinned maliciously and -laid the parcel on the table. - -“And what do you want me to do?” Thorndyke asked quietly. - -“Why sir,” said Miller, “there is a coat. In the pockets were a pair -of gloves, a muffler, a box of matches, a tram-ticket and a Yale key. -Mrs. Chater would like to know whose coat it is.” He untied the -parcel with his eye cocked at our rather disconcerted client, and -Thorndyke watched him with a faint Smile. - -“This is very kind of you, Miller,” said he, “but I think a -clairvoyant would be more to your purpose.” - -The superintendent instantly dropped his facetious manner. - -“Seriously, sir,” he said, “I should be glad if you would take a look -at the coat. We have absolutely nothing to go on, and yet we don’t -want to give up the case. I have gone through it most thoroughly and -can’t find any clue to guide us. Now I know that nothing escapes you, -and perhaps you might notice something that I have overlooked; -something that would give us a hint where to start on our inquiry. -Couldn’t you turn the microscope on it, for instance?” he added, with -a deprecating smile. - -Thorndyke reflected, with an inquisitive eye on the coat. I saw that -the problem was not without its attractions to him; and when the lady -seconded Miller’s request with persuasive eagerness, the inevitable -consequence followed. - -“Very well,” he said. “Leave the coat with me for an hour or so and I -will look it over. I am afraid there is not the remotest chance of -our learning anything from it, but even so, the examination will have -done no harm. Come back at two o’clock; I shall be ready to report my -failure by then.” - -He bowed our visitors out and, returning to the table, looked down -with a quizzical smile on the coat and the large official envelope -containing articles from the pockets. - -“And what does my learned brother suggest?” he asked, looking up at -me. - -“I should look at the tram-ticket first,” I replied, “and then--well, -Miller’s suggestion wasn’t such a bad one; to explore the surface -with the microscope.” - -“I think we will take the latter measure first,” said he. “The -tram-ticket might create a misleading bias. A man may take a tram -anywhere, whereas the indoor dust on a man’s coat appertains mostly -to a definite locality.” - -“Yes,” I replied; “but the information that it yields is excessively -vague.” - -“That is true,” he agreed, taking up the coat and envelope to carry -them to the laboratory, “and yet, you know, Jervis, as I have often -pointed out, the evidential value of dust is apt to be -under-estimated. The naked-eye appearances--which are the normal -appearances--are misleading. Gather the dust, say, from a table-top, -and what have you? A fine powder of a characterless grey, just like -any other dust from any other table-top. But, under the microscope, -this grey powder is resolved into recognizable fragments of definite -substances, which fragments may often be traced with certainty to the -masses from which they have been detached. But you know all this as -well as I do.” - -“I quite appreciate the value of dust as evidence in certain -circumstances,” I replied, “but surely the information that could be -gathered from dust on the coat of an unknown man must be too general -to be of any use in tracing the owner.” - -“I am afraid you are right,” said Thorndyke, laying the coat on the -laboratory bench; “but we shall soon see, if Polton will let us have -his patent dust-extractor.” - -The little apparatus to which my colleague referred was the invention -of our ingenious laboratory assistant, and resembled in principle the -“vacuum cleaners” used for restoring carpets. It had, however, one -special feature: the receiver was made to admit a microscope-slide, -and on this the dust laden air was delivered from a jet. - -The “extractor” having been clamped to the bench by its proud -inventor, and a wetted slide introduced into the receiver, Thorndyke -applied the nozzle of the instrument to the collar of the coat while -Polton worked the pump. The slide was then removed and, another -having been substituted, the nozzle was applied to the right sleeve -near the shoulder, and the exhauster again worked by Polton. By -repeating this process, half-a-dozen slides were obtained charged -with dust from different parts of the garment, and then, setting up -our respective microscopes, we proceeded to examine the samples. - -A very brief inspection showed me that this dust contained matter not -usually met with--at any rate, in appreciable quantities. There were, -of course, the usual fragments of wool, cotton and other fibres -derived from clothing and furniture, particles of straw, husk, hair, -various mineral particles and, in fact, the ordinary constituents of -dust from clothing. But, in addition to these, and in much greater -quantity, were a number of other bodies, mostly of vegetable origin -and presenting well-defined characters in considerable variety, and -especially abundant were various starch granules. - -I glanced at Thorndyke and observed he was already busy with a pencil -and a slip of paper, apparently making a list of the objects visible -in the field of the microscope. I hastened to follow his example, and -for a time we worked on in silence. At length my colleague leaned -back in his chair and read over his list. - -“This is a highly interesting collection, Jervis,” he remarked. “What -do you find on your slides out of the ordinary?” - -“I have quite a little museum here,” I replied, referring to my list. -“There is, of course, chalk from the road at Raynesford. In addition -to this I find various starches, principally wheat and rice, -especially rice, fragments of the cortices of several seeds, several -different stone-cells, some yellow masses that look like turmeric, -black pepper resin-cells, one ‘port wine’ pimento cell, and one or -two particles of graphite.” - -“Graphite!” exclaimed Thorndyke. “I have found no graphite, but I -have found traces of cocoa--spiral vessels and starch grains--and of -hops--one fragment of leaf and several lupulin glands. May I see the -graphite?” - -I passed him the slide and he examined it with keen interest. “Yes,” -he said, “this is undoubtedly graphite, and no less than six -particles of it. We had better go over the coat systematically. You -see the importance of this?” - -“I see that this is evidently factory dust and that it may fix a -locality, but I don’t see that it will carry us any farther.” - -“Don’t forget that we have a touchstone,” said he; and, as I raised -my eyebrows inquiringly, he added, “The Yale latch-key. If we can -narrow the locality down sufficiently, Miller can make a tour of the -front doors.” - -“But can we?” I asked incredulously. “I doubt it.” - -“We can try,” answered Thorndyke. “Evidently some of the substances -are distributed over the entire coat, inside and out, while others, -such as the graphite, are present only on certain parts. We must -locate those parts exactly and then consider what this special -distribution means.” He rapidly sketched out on a sheet of paper a -rough diagram of the coat, marking each part with a distinctive -letter, and then, taking a number of labelled slides, he wrote a -single letter on each. The samples of dust taken on the slides could -thus be easily referred to the exact spots whence they had been -obtained. - -Once more we set to work with the microscope, making, now and again, -an addition to our lists of discoveries, and, at the end of nearly an -hour’s strenuous search, every slide had been examined and the lists -compared. - -“The net result of the examination,” said Thorndyke, “is this. The -entire coat, inside and out, is evenly powdered with the following -substances: Rice-starch in abundance, wheat-starch in less abundance, -and smaller quantities of the starches of ginger, pimento and -cinnamon; bast fibre of cinnamon, various seed cortices, stone-cells -of pimento, cinnamon, cassia and black pepper, with other fragments -of similar origin, such as resin-cells and ginger pigment--not -turmeric. In addition there are, on the right shoulder and sleeve, -traces of cocoa and hops, and on the back below the shoulders a few -fragments of graphite. Those are the data; and now, what are the -inferences? Remember this is not mere surface dust, but the -accumulation of months, beaten into the cloth by repeated -brushing--dust that nothing but a vacuum apparatus could extract.” - -“Evidently,” I said, “the particles that are all over the coat -represent dust that is floating in the air of the place where the -coat habitually hangs. The graphite has obviously been picked up from -a seat and the cocoa and hops from some factories that the man passes -frequently, though I don’t see why they are on the right side only.” - -“That is a question of time,” said Thorndyke, “and incidentally -throws some light on our friend’s habits. Going from home, he passes -the factories on his right; returning home, he passes them on his -left, but they have then stopped work. However, the first group of -substances is the more important as they indicate the locality of his -dwelling--for he is clearly not a workman or factory employee. Now -rice-starch, wheat-starch and a group of substances collectively -designated ‘spices’ suggest a rice-mill, a flour-mill and a spice -factory. Polton, may I trouble you for the Post Office Directory?” - -He turned over the leaves of the “Trades” section and resumed: “I see -there are four rice-mills in London, of which the largest is -Carbutt’s at Dockhead. Let us look at the spice-factories.” He again -turned over the leaves and read down the list of names. “There are -six spice-grinders in London,” said he. “One of them, Thomas Williams -& Co., is at Dockhead. None of the others is near any rice-mill. The -next question is as to the flour-mill. Let us see. Here are the names -of several flour millers, but none of them is near either a rice-mill -or a spice-grinder, with one exception: Seth Taylor’s, St. Saviour’s -Flour Mills, Dockhead.” - -“This is really becoming interesting,” said I. - -“It has become interesting,” Thorndyke retorted. “You observe that at -Dockhead we find the peculiar combination of factories necessary to -produce the composite dust in which this coat has hung; and the -directory shows us that this particular combination exists nowhere -else in London. Then the graphite, the cocoa and the hops tend to -confirm the other suggestions. They all appertain to industries of -the locality. The trams which pass Dockhead, also, to my knowledge, -pass at no great distance from the black-lead works of Pearce Duff & -Co. in Rouel Road, and will probably collect a few particles of -black-lead on the seats in certain states of the wind. I see, too, -that there is a cocoa factory--Payne’s--in Goat Street, Horsleydown, -which lies to the right of the tram line going west, and I have -noticed several hop warehouses on the right side of Southwark Street, -going west. But these are mere suggestions; the really important data -are the rice and flour mills and the spice-grinders, which seem to -point unmistakably to Dockhead.” - -“Are there any private houses at Dockhead?” I asked. - -“We must look up the ‘Street’ list,” he replied. “The Yale latch-key -rather suggests a flat, and a flat with a single occupant, and the -probable habits of our absent friend offer a similar suggestion.” He -ran his eye down the list and presently turned to me with his finger -on the page. - -“If the facts that we have elicited--the singular series of -agreements with the required conditions--are only a string of -coincidences, here is another. On the south side of Dockhead, -actually next door to the spice-grinders and opposite to Carbutt’s -rice-mills, is a block of workmen’s flats, Hanover Buildings. They -fulfil the conditions exactly. A coat hung in a room in those flats, -with the windows open (as they would probably be at this time of -year), would be exposed to the air containing a composite dust of -precisely the character of that which we have found. Of course, the -same conditions obtain in other dwellings in this part of Dockhead, -but the probability is in favour of the buildings. And that is all -that we can say. It is no certainty. There may be some radical -fallacy in our reasoning. But, on the face of it, the chances are a -thousand to one that the door that that key will open is in some part -of Dockhead, and most probably in Hanover Buildings. We must leave -the verification to Miller.” - -“Wouldn’t it be as well to look at the tram-ticket?” I asked. - -“Dear me!” he exclaimed. “I had forgotten the ticket. Yes, by all -means.” He opened the envelope and, turning its contents out on the -bench, picked up the dingy slip of paper. After a glance at it he -handed it to me. It was punched for the journey from Tooley Street to -Dockhead. - -“Another coincidence,” he remarked; “and by yet another, I think I -hear Miller knocking at our door.” - -It was the superintendent, and, as we let him into the room, the hum -of a motor-car entering from Tudor Street announced the arrival of -Mrs. Chater. We waited for her at the open door, and, as she entered, -she held out her hands impulsively. - -“Say, now, Dr. Thorndyke,” she exclaimed, “have you gotten something -to tell us?” - -“I have a suggestion to make,” replied Thorndyke. “I think that if -the superintendent will take this key to Hanover Buildings, Dockhead, -Bermondsey, he may possibly find a door that it will fit.” - -“The deuce!” exclaimed Miller. “I beg your pardon, madam; but I -thought I had gone through that coat pretty completely. What was it -that I had overlooked, sir? Was there a letter hidden in it, after -all?” - -“You overlooked the dust on it, Miller; that is all,” said Thorndyke. - -“Dust!” exclaimed the detective, staring round-eyed at my colleague. -Then he chuckled softly. “Well,” said he, “as I said before, I’m not -a sorcerer; I’m only a policeman.” He picked up the key and asked: -“Are you coming to see the end of it, sir?” - -“Of course he is coming,” said Mrs. Chater, “and Dr. Jervis too, to -identify the man. Now that we have gotten the villain we must leave -him no loophole for escape.” - -Thorndyke smiled dryly. “We will come if you wish it, Mrs. Chater,” -he said, “but you mustn’t look upon our quest as a certainty. We may -have made an entire miscalculation, and I am, in fact, rather curious -to see if the result works out correctly. But even if we run the man -to earth, I don’t see that you have much evidence against him. The -most that you can prove is that he was at the house and that he left -hurriedly.” - -Mrs. Chater regarded my colleague for a moment in scornful silence, -and then, gathering up her skirts, stalked out of the room. If there -is one thing that the average woman detests more than another, it is -an entirely reasonable man. - -The big car whirled us rapidly over Blackfriars Bridge into the -region of the Borough, whence we presently turned down Tooley Street -towards Bermondsey. - -As soon as Dockhead came into view, the detective, Thorndyke and I, -alighted and proceeded on foot, leaving our client, who was now -closely veiled, to follow at a little distance in the car. Opposite -the head of St. Saviour’s Dock, Thorndyke halted and, looking over -the wall, drew my attention to the snowy powder that had lodged on -every projection on the backs of the tall buildings and on the decks -of the barges that were loading with the flour and ground rice. Then, -crossing the road, he pointed to the wooden lantern above the roof of -the spice works, the louvres of which were covered with greyish-buff -dust. - -“Thus,” he moralized, “does commerce subserve the ends of justice--at -least, we hope it does,” he added quickly, as Miller disappeared into -the semi-basement of the buildings. - -We met the detective returning from his quest as we entered the -building. - -“No go there,” was his report. “We’ll try the next floor.” - -This was the ground-floor, or it might be considered the first floor. -At any rate, it yielded nothing of interest, and, after a glance at -the doors that opened on the landing, he strode briskly up the stone -stairs. The next floor was equally unrewarding, for our eager -inspection disclosed nothing but the gaping keyhole associated with -the common type of night-latch. - -“What name was you wanting?” inquired a dusty knight of industry who -emerged from one of the flats. - -“Muggs,” replied Miller, with admirable promptness. - -“Don’t know ’im,” said the workman. “I expect it’s farther up.” - -Farther up we accordingly went, but still from each door the artless -grin of the invariable keyhole saluted us with depressing monotony. I -began to grow uneasy, and when the fourth floor had been explored -with no better result, my anxiety became acute. A mare’s nest may be -an interesting curiosity, but it brings no kudos to its discoverer. - -“I suppose you haven’t made any mistake, sir?” said Miller, stopping -to wipe his brow. - -“It’s quite likely that I have,” replied Thorndyke, with unmoved -composure. “I only proposed this search as a tentative proceeding, -you know.” - -The superintendent grunted. He was accustomed--as was I too, for that -matter--to regard Thorndyke’s “tentative suggestions” as equal to -another man’s certainties. - -“It will be an awful suck-in for Mrs. Chater if we don’t find him -after all,” he growled as we climbed up the last flight. “She’s -counted her chickens to a feather.” He paused at the head of the -stairs and stood for a few moments looking round the landing. -Suddenly he turned eagerly, and, laying his hand on Thorndyke’s arm, -pointed to a door in the farthest corner. - -“Yale lock!” he whispered impressively. - -We followed him silently as he stole on tip-toe across the landing, -and watched him as he stood for an instant with the key in his land -looking gloatingly at the brass disc. We saw him softly apply the -nose of the fluted key-blade to the crooked slit in the cylinder, -and, as we watched, it slid noiselessly up to the shoulder. The -detective looked round with a grin of triumph, and, silently -withdrawing the key, stepped back to us. - -“You’ve run him to earth, sir,” he whispered, “but I don’t think Mr. -Fox is at home. He can’t have got back yet.” - -“Why not?” asked Thorndyke. - -Miller waved his hand towards the door. “Nothing has been disturbed,” -he replied. “There’s not a mark on the paint. Now he hadn’t got the -key, and you can’t pick a Yale lock. He’d have had to break in, and -he hasn’t broken in.” - -Thorndyke stepped up to the door and softly pushed in the flap of the -letter-slit, through which he looked into the flat. - -“There’s no letter-box,” said he. “My dear Miller, I would undertake -to open that door in five minutes with a foot of wire and a bit of -resined string.” - -Miller shook his head and grinned once more. “I am glad you’re not on -the lay, sir; you’d be one too many for us. Shall we signal to the -lady?” - -I went out onto the gallery and looked down at the waiting car. Mrs. -Chater was staring intently up at the building, and the little crowd -that the car had collected stared alternately at the lady and at the -object of her regard. I wiped my face with my handkerchief--the -signal agreed upon--and she instantly sprang out of the car, and in -an incredibly short time she appeared on the landing, purple and -gasping, but with the fire of battle flashing from her eyes. - -“We’ve found his flat, madam,” said Miller, “and we’re going to -enter. You’re not intending to offer any violence, I hope,” he added, -noting with some uneasiness the lady’s ferocious expression. - -“Of course I’m not,” replied Mrs. Chater. “In the States ladies don’t -have to avenge insults themselves. If you were American men you’d -hang the ruffian from his own bedpost.” - -“We’re not American men, madam,” said the superintendent stiffly. “We -are law-abiding Englishmen, and, moreover, we are all officers of the -law. These gentlemen are barristers and I am a police officer.” - -With this preliminary caution, he once more inserted the key, and as -he turned it and pushed the door open, we all followed him into the -sitting-room. - -“I told you so, sir,” said Miller, softly shutting the door; “he -hasn’t come back yet.” - -Apparently he was right. At any rate, there was no one in the flat, -and we proceeded unopposed on our tour of inspection. It was a -miserable spectacle, and, as we wandered from one squalid room to -another, a feeling of pity for the starving wretch into whose lair we -were intruding stole over me and began almost to mitigate the -hideousness of his crime. On all sides poverty--utter, grinding -poverty--stared us in the face. It looked at us hollow-eyed in the -wretched sitting-room, with its bare floor, its solitary chair and -tiny deal table; its unfurnished walls and windows destitute of blind -or curtain. A piece of Dutch cheese-rind on the table, scraped to the -thinness of paper, whispered of starvation; and famine lurked in the -gaping cupboard, in the empty bread-tin, in the tea-caddy with its -pinch of dust at the bottom, in the jam-jar, wiped clean, as a few -crumbs testified, with a crust of bread. There was not enough food in -the place to furnish a meal for a healthy mouse. - -The bedroom told the same tale, but with a curious variation. A -miserable truckle-bed with a straw mattress and a cheap jute rug for -bed-clothes, an orange-case, stood on end, for a dressing-table, and -another, bearing a tin washing bowl, formed the wretched furniture. -But the suit that hung from a couple of nails was well-cut and even -fashionable, though shabby; and another suit lay on the floor, neatly -folded and covered with a newspaper; and, most incongruous of all, a -silver cigarette-case reposed on the dressing-table. - -“Why on earth does this fellow starve,” I exclaimed, “when he has a -silver case to pawn?” - -“Wouldn’t do,” said Miller. “A man doesn’t pawn the implements of his -trade.” - -Mrs. Chater, who had been staring about her with the mute amazement -of a wealthy woman confronted, for the first time, with abject -poverty, turned suddenly to the superintendent. “This can’t be the -man!” she exclaimed. “You have made some mistake. This poor creature -could never have made his way into a house like Willowdale.” - -Thorndyke lifted the newspaper. Beneath it was a dress suit with the -shirt, collar and tie all carefully smoothed out and folded. -Thorndyke unfolded the shirt and pointed to the curiously crumpled -front. Suddenly he brought it close to his eye and then, from the -sham diamond stud, he drew a single hair--a woman’s hair. - -“That is rather significant,” said he, holding it up between his -finger and thumb; and Mrs. Chater evidently thought so too, for the -pity and compunction suddenly faded from her face, and once more her -eyes flashed with vindictive fire. - -“I wish he would come,” she exclaimed viciously. “Prison won’t be -much hardship to him after this, but I want to see him in the dock -all the same.” - -“No,” the detective agreed, “it won’t hurt him much to swap this for -Portland. Listen!” - -A key was being inserted into the outer door, and as we all stood -like statues, a man entered and closed the door after him. He passed -the door of the bedroom without seeing us, and with the dragging -steps of a weary, dispirited man. Almost immediately we heard him go -to the kitchen and draw water into some vessel. Then he went back to -the sitting-room. - -“Come along,” said Miller, stepping silently towards the door. We -followed closely, and as he threw the door open, we looked in over -his shoulder. - -The man had seated himself at the table, on which now lay a hunk of -household bread resting on the paper in which he had brought it, and -a tumbler of water. He half rose as the door opened, and as if -petrified remained staring at Miller with a dreadful expression of -terror upon his livid face. - -At this moment I felt a hand on my arm, and Mrs. Chater brusquely -pushed past me into the room. But at the threshold she stopped short; -and a singular change crept over the man’s ghastly face, a change so -remarkable that I looked involuntarily from him to our client. She -had turned, in a moment, deadly pale, and her face had frozen into an -expression of incredulous horror. - -The dramatic silence was broken by the matter-of-fact voice of the -detective. - -“I am a police officer,” said he, “and I arrest you for----” - -A peal of hysterical laughter from Mrs. Chater interrupted him, and -he looked at her in astonishment. “Stop, stop!” she cried in a shaky -voice. “I guess we’ve made a ridiculous mistake. This isn’t the man. -This gentleman is Captain Rowland, an old friend of mine.” - -“I’m sorry he’s a friend of yours,” said Miller, “because I shall -have to ask you to appear against him.” - -“You can ask what you please,” replied Mrs. Chater. “I tell you he’s -not the man.” - -The superintendent rubbed his nose and looked hungrily at his quarry. -“Do I understand, madam,” he asked stiffly, “that you refuse to -prosecute?” - -“Prosecute!” she exclaimed. “Prosecute my friends for offences that I -know they have not committed? Certainly I refuse.” - -The superintendent looked at Thorndyke, but my colleague’s -countenance had congealed into a state of absolute immobility and was -as devoid of expression as the face of a Dutch clock. - -“Very well,” said Miller, looking sourly at his watch. “Then we have -had our trouble for nothing. I wish you good afternoon, madam.” - -“I am sorry I troubled you, now,” said Mrs. Chater. - -“I am sorry you did,” was the curt reply; and the superintendent, -flinging the key on the table, stalked out of the room. - -As the outer door slammed the man sat down with an air of -bewilderment; and then, suddenly flinging his arms on the table, he -dropped his head on them and burst into a passion of sobbing. - -It was very embarrassing. With one accord Thorndyke and I turned to -go, but Mrs. Chater motioned us to stay. Stepping over to the man, -she touched him lightly on the arm. - -“Why did you do it?” she asked in a tone of gentle reproach. - -The man sat up and flung out one arm in an eloquent gesture that -comprehended the miserable room and the yawning cupboard. - -“It was the temptation of a moment,” he said. “I was penniless, and -those accursed diamonds were thrust in my face; they were mine for -the taking. I was mad, I suppose.” - -“But why didn’t you take them?” she said. “Why didn’t you?” - -“I don’t know. The madness passed; and then--when I saw you lying -there---- Oh, God! Why don’t you give me up to the police?” He laid -his head down and sobbed afresh. - -Mrs. Chater bent over him with tears standing in her pretty grey -eyes. “But tell me,” she said, “why didn’t you take the diamonds? You -could if you’d liked, I suppose?” - -“What good were they to me?” he demanded passionately. “What did any -thing matter to me? I thought you were dead.” - -“Well, I’m not, you see,” she said, with a rather tearful smile; “I’m -just as well as an old woman like me can expect to be. And I want -your address, so that I can write and give you some good advice.” - -The man sat up and produced a shabby cardcase from his pocket, and, -as he took out a number of cards and spread them out like the “hand” -of a whist player, I caught a twinkle in Thorndyke’s eye. - -“My name is Augustus Bailey,” said the man. He selected the -appropriate card, and, having scribbled his address on it with a -stump of lead pencil, relapsed into his former position. - -“Thank you,” said Mrs. Chater, lingering for a moment by the table. -“Now we’ll go. Good-bye, Mr. Bailey. I shall write tomorrow, and you -must attend seriously to the advice of an old friend.” - -I held open the door for her to pass out and looked back before I -turned to follow. Bailey still sat sobbing quietly, with his hand -resting on his arms; and a little pile of gold stood on the corner of -the table. - -“I expect, doctor,” said Mrs. Chater, as Thorndyke handed her into -the car, “you’ve written me down a sentimental fool.” - -Thorndyke looked at her with an unwonted softening of his rather -severe face and answered quietly, “It is written: Blessed are the -Merciful.” - - - - -THE OLD LAG - - -PART I - -THE CHANGED IMMUTABLE - -Among the minor and purely physical pleasures of life, I am disposed -to rank very highly that feeling of bodily comfort that one -experiences on passing from the outer darkness of a wet winter’s -night to a cheerful interior made glad by mellow lamplight and -blazing hearth. And so I thought when, on a dreary November night, I -let myself into our chambers in the Temple and found my friend -smoking his pipe in slippered ease, by a roaring fire, and facing an -empty armchair evidently placed in readiness for me. - -As I shed my damp overcoat, I glanced inquisitively at my colleague, -for he held in his hand an open letter, and I seemed to perceive in -his aspect something meditative and self-communing--something, in -short, suggestive of a new case. - -“I was just considering,” he said, in answer to my inquiring look, -“whether I am about to become an accessory after the fact. Read that -and give me your opinion.” - -He handed me the letter, which I read aloud. - - - -“DEAR SIR,--I am in great danger and distress. A warrant has been -issued for my arrest on a charge of which I am entirely innocent. Can -I come and see you, and will you let me leave in safety? The bearer -will wait for a reply.” - - - -“I said ‘Yes,’ of course; there was nothing else to do,” said -Thorndyke. “But if I let him go, as I have promised to do, I shall be -virtually conniving at his escape.” - -“Yes, you are taking a risk,” I answered. “When is he coming?” - -“He was due five minutes ago--and I rather think--yes, here he is.” - -A stealthy tread on the landing was followed by a soft tapping on the -outer door. - -Thorndyke rose and, flinging open the inner door, unfastened the -massive “oak.” - -“Dr. Thorndyke?” inquired a breathless, quavering voice. - -“Yes, come in. You sent me a letter by hand?” - -“I did, sir,” was the reply; and the speaker entered, but at the -sight of me he stopped short. - -“This is my colleague, Dr. Jervis,” Thorndyke explained. “You need -have no----” - -“Oh, I remember him,” our visitor interrupted in a tone of relief. “I -have seen you both before, you know, and you have seen me too--though -I don’t suppose you recognize me,” he added, with a sickly smile. - -“Frank Belfield?” asked Thorndyke, smiling also. - -Our visitor’s jaw fell and he gazed at my colleague in sudden dismay. - -“And I may remark,” pursued Thorndyke, “that for a man in your -perilous position, you are running most unnecessary risks. That wig, -that false beard and those spectacles--through which you obviously -cannot see--are enough to bring the entire police force at your -heels. It is not wise for a man who is wanted by the police to make -up as though he had just escaped from a comic opera.” - -Mr. Belfield seated himself with a groan, and, taking off his -spectacles, stared stupidly from one of us to the other. - -“And now tell us about your little affair,” said Thorndyke. “You say -that you are innocent?” - -“I swear it, doctor,” replied Belfield; adding, with great -earnestness, “And you may take it from me, sir, that if I was not, I -shouldn’t be here. It was you that convicted me last time, when I -thought myself quite safe, so I know your ways too well to try to -gammon you.” - -“If you are innocent,” rejoined Thorndyke, “I will do what I can for -you; and if you are not--well, you would have been wiser to stay -away.” - -“I know that well enough,” said Belfield, “and I am only afraid that -you won’t believe what I am going to tell you.” - -“I shall keep an open mind, at any rate,” replied Thorndyke. - -“If you only will,” groaned Belfield, “I shall have a look in, in -spite of them all. You know, sir, that I have been on the crook, but -I have paid in full. That job when you tripped me up was the last of -it--it was, sir, so help me. It was a woman that changed me--the best -and truest woman on God’s earth. She said she would marry me when I -came out if I promised her to go straight and live an honest life. -And she kept her promise--and I have kept mine. She found me work as -clerk in a warehouse and I have stuck to it ever since, earning fair -wages and building up a good character as an honest, industrious man. -I thought all was going well and that I was settled for life, when -only this very morning the whole thing comes tumbling about my ears -like a house of cards.” - -“What happened this morning, then?” asked Thorndyke. - -“Why, I was on my way to work when, as I passed the police station, I -noticed a bill with the heading ‘Wanted’ and a photograph. I stopped -for a moment to look at it, and you may imagine my feelings when I -recognized my own portrait--taken at Holloway--and read my own name -and description. I did not stop to read the bill through, but ran -back home and told my wife, and she ran down to the station and read -the bill carefully. Good God, sir! What do you think I am wanted -for?” He paused for a moment, and then re plied in breathless tones -to his own question: “The Camberwell murder!” - -Thorndyke gave a low whistle. - -“My wife knows I didn’t do it,” continued Belfield, “because I was at -home all the evening and night; but what use is a man’s wife to prove -an alibi?” - -“Not much, I fear,” Thorndyke admitted; “and you have no other -witness?” - -“Not a soul. We were alone all the evening.” - -“However,” said Thorndyke, “if you are innocent--as I am -assuming--the evidence against you must be entirely circumstantial -and your alibi may be quite sufficient. Have you any idea of the -grounds of suspicion against you?” - -“Not the faintest. The papers said that the police had an excellent -clue, but they did not say what it was. Probably some one has given -false information for the----” - -A sharp rapping at the outer door cut short the explanation, and our -visitor rose, trembling and aghast, with beads of sweat standing upon -his livid face. - -“You had better go into the office, Belfield, while we see who it -is,” said Thorndyke. “The key is on the inside.” - -The fugitive wanted no second bidding, but hurried into the empty -apartment, and, as the door closed, we heard the key turn in the lock. - -As Thorndyke threw open the outer door, he cast a meaning glance at -me over his shoulder which I understood when the newcomer entered the -room; for it was none other than Superintendent Miller of Scotland -Yard. - -“I have just dropped in,” said the superintendent, in his brisk, -cheerful way, “to ask you to do me a favour. Good evening, Dr. -Jervis. I hear you are reading for the bar; learned counsel soon, -sir, hey? Medico-legal expert. Dr. Thorndyke’s mantle going to fall -on you, sir?” - -“I hope Dr. Thorndyke’s mantle will continue to drape his own -majestic form for many a long year yet,” I answered; “though he is -good enough to spare me a corner--but what on earth have you got -there?” For during this dialogue the Superintendent had been deftly -unfastening a brown-paper parcel, from which he now drew a linen -shirt, once white, but now of an unsavoury grey. - -“I want to know what this is,” said Miller, exhibiting a brownish-red -stain on one sleeve. “Just look at that, sir, and tell me if it is -blood, and, if so, is it human blood?” - -“Really, Miller,” said Thorndyke, with a smile, “you flatter me; but -I am not like the wise woman of Bagdad who could tell you how many -stairs the patient had tumbled down by merely looking at his tongue. -I must examine this very thoroughly. When do you want to know?” - -“I should like to know to-night,” replied the detective. - -“Can I cut a piece out to put under the microscope?” - -“I would rather you did not,” was the reply. - -“Very well; you shall have the information in about an hour.” - -“It’s very good of you, doctor,” said the detective; and he was -taking up his hat preparatory to departing, when Thorndyke said -suddenly---- - -“By the way, there is a little matter that I was going to speak to -you about. It refers to this Camberwell murder case. I understand you -have a clue to the identity of the murderer?” - -“Clue!” exclaimed the superintendent contemptuously. “We have spotted -our man all right, if we could only lay hands on him; but he has -given us the slip for the moment.” - -“Who is the man?” asked Thorndyke. - -The detective looked doubtfully at Thorndyke for some seconds and -then said, with evident reluctance: “I suppose there is no harm in -telling you--especially as you probably know already”--this with a -sly grin; “it’s an old crook named Belfield.” - -“And what is the evidence against him?” - -Again the superintendent looked doubtful and again relented. - -“Why, the case is as clear as--as cold Scotch,” he said (here -Thorndyke in illustration of this figure of speech produced a -decanter, a syphon and a tumbler, which he pushed towards the -officer). “You see, sir, the silly fool went and stuck his sweaty -hand on the window; and there we found the marks--four fingers and a -thumb, as beautiful prints as you could wish to see. Of course we cut -out the piece of glass and took it up to the Finger-print Department; -they turned up their files and out came Mr. Belfield’s record, with -his finger-prints and photograph all complete.” - -“And the finger-prints on the window-pane were identical with those -on the prison form?” - -“Identical.” - -“H’m!” Thorndyke reflected for a while, and the superintendent -watched him foxily over the edge of his tumbler. - -“I guess you are retained to defend Belfield,” the latter observed -presently. - -“To look into the case generally,” replied Thorndyke. - -“And I expect you know where the beggar is hiding,” continued the -detective. - -“Belfield’s address has not yet been communicated to me,” said -Thorndyke. “I am merely to investigate the case--and there is no -reason, Miller, why you and I should be at cross purposes. We are -both working at the case; you want to get a conviction and you want -to convict the right man.” - -“That’s so--and Belfield’s the right man--but what do you want of us, -doctor?” - -“I should like to see the piece of glass with the finger-prints on -it, and the prison form, and take a photograph of each. And I should -like to examine the room in which the murder took place--you have it -locked up, I suppose?” - -“Yes, we have the keys. Well, it’s all rather irregular, letting you -see the things. Still, you’ve always played the game fairly with us, -so we might stretch a point. Yes, I will. I’ll come back in an hour -for your report and bring the glass and the form. I can’t let them go -out of my custody, you know. I’ll be off now--no, thank you, not -another drop.” - -The superintendent caught up his hat and strode away, the -personification of mental alertness and bodily vigour. - -No sooner had the door closed behind him than Thorndyke’s stolid calm -changed instantaneously into feverish energy. Darting to the electric -bell that rang into the laboratories above, he pressed the button -while he gave me my directions. - -“Have a look at that bloodstain, Jervis, while I am finishing with -Belfield. Don’t wet it; scrape it into a drop of warm normal saline -solution.” - -I hastened to reach down the microscope and set out on the table the -necessary apparatus and reagents, and, as I was thus occupied, a -latch-key turned in the outer door and our invaluable helpmate, -Polton, entered the room in his habitual silent, unobtrusive fashion. - -“Let me have the finger-print apparatus, please, Polton,” said -Thorndyke; “and have the copying camera ready by nine o’clock. I am -expecting Mr. Miller with some documents.” - -As his laboratory assistant departed, Thorndyke rapped at the office -door. - -“It’s all clear, Belfield,” he called; “you can come out.” - -The key turned and the prisoner emerged, looking ludicrously -woebegone in his ridiculous wig and beard. - -“I am going to take your finger-prints, to compare with some that the -police found on the window.” - -“Finger-prints!” exclaimed Belfield, in a tone of dismay. “They don’t -say they’re my finger-prints, do they, sir?” - -“They do indeed,” replied Thorndyke, eyeing the man narrowly. “They -have compared them with those taken when you were at Holloway, and -they say that they are identical.” - -“Good God!” murmured Belfield, collapsing into a chair, faint and -trembling. “They must have made some awful mistake. But are mistakes -possible with finger-prints?” - -“Now look here, Belfield,” said Thorndyke. “Were you in that house -that night, or were you not? It is of no use for you to tell me any -lies.” - -“I was not there, sir; I swear to God I was not.” - -“Then they cannot be your finger-prints, that is obvious.” Here he -stepped to the door to intercept Polton, from whom he received a -substantial box, which he brought in and placed on the table. - -“Tell me all you know about this case,” he continued, as he set out -the contents of the box on the table. - -“I know nothing about it whatever,” replied Belfield; “nothing, at -least, except----” - -“Except what?” demanded Thorndyke, looking up sharply as he squeezed -a drop from a tube of finger-print ink onto a smooth copper plate. - -“Except that the murdered man, Caldwell, was a retired fence.” - -“A fence, was he?” said Thorndyke in a tone of interest. - -“Yes; and I suspect he was a ‘nark’ too. He knew more than was -wholesome for a good many.” - -“Did he know anything about you?” - -“Yes; but nothing that the police don’t know.” - -With a small roller Thorndyke spread the ink upon the plate into a -thin film. Then he laid on the edge of the table a smooth white card -and, taking Belfield’s right hand, pressed the forefinger firmly but -quickly, first on the inked plate and then on the card, leaving on -the latter a clear print of the finger-tip. This process he repeated -with the other fingers and thumb, and then took several additional -prints of each. - -“That was a nasty injury to your forefinger, Belfield,” said -Thorndyke, holding the finger to the light and examining the tip -carefully. “How did you do it?” - -“Stuck a tin-opener into it--a dirty one, too. It was bad for weeks; -in fact, Dr. Sampson thought at one time that he would have to -amputate the finger.” - -“How long ago was that?” - -“Oh, nearly a year ago, sir.” - -Thorndyke wrote the date of the injury by the side of the -finger-print and then, having rolled up the inking plate afresh, laid -on the table several larger cards. - -“I am now going to take the prints of the four fingers and the thumb -all at once,” he said. - -“They only took the four fingers at once at the prison,” said -Belfield. “They took the thumb separately.” - -“I know,” replied Thorndyke; “but I am going to take the impression -just as it would appear on the window glass.” - -He took several impressions thus, and then, having looked at his -watch, he began to repack the apparatus in its box. While doing this, -he glanced, from time to time, in meditative fashion, at the -suspected man who sat, the living picture of misery and terror, -wiping the greasy ink from his trembling fingers with his -handkerchief. - -“Belfield,” he said at length, “you have sworn to me that you are an -innocent man and are trying to live an honest life. I believe you; -but in a few minutes I shall know for certain.” - -“Thank God for that, sir,” exclaimed Belfield, brightening up -wonderfully. - -“And now,” said Thorndyke, “you had better go back into the office, -for I am expecting Superintendent Miller, and he may be here at any -moment.” - -Belfield hastily slunk back into the office, locking the door after -him, and Thorndyke, having returned the box to the laboratory and -deposited the cards bearing the finger-prints in a drawer, came round -to inspect my work. I had managed to detach a tiny fragment of dried -clot from the bloodstained garment, and this, in a drop of normal -saline solution, I now had under the microscope. - -“What do you make out, Jervis?” my colleague asked. - -“Oval corpuscles with distinct nuclei,” I answered. - -“Ah,” said Thorndyke, “that will be good hearing for some poor devil. -Have you measured them?” - -“Yes. Long diameter 1/2100 of an inch; short diameter about 1/3400.” - -Thorndyke reached down an indexed note-book from a shelf of reference -volumes and consulted a table of histological measurements. - -“That would seem to be the blood of a pheasant, then, or it might, -more probably, be that of a common fowl.” He applied his eye to the -microscope and, fitting in the eye-piece micrometer, verified my -measurements. He was thus employed when a sharp tap was heard on the -outer door, and rising to open it he admitted the superintendent. - -“I see you are at work on my little problem, doctor,” said the -latter, glancing at the microscope. “What do you make of that stain?” - -“It is the blood of a bird--probably a pheasant, or perhaps a common -fowl.” - -The superintendent slapped his thigh. “Well, I’m hanged!” he -exclaimed. “You’re a regular wizard, doctor, that’s what you are. The -fellow said he got that stain through handling a wounded pheasant and -here are you able to tell us yes or no without a hint from us to help -you. Well, you’ve done my little job for me, sir, and I’m much -obliged to you; now I’ll carry out my part of the bargain.” He opened -a handbag and drew forth a wooden frame and a blue foolscap envelope -and laid them with extreme care on the table. - -“There you are, sir,” said he, pointing to the frame; “you will find -Mr. Belfield’s trademark very neatly executed, and in the envelope is -the finger-print sheet for comparison.” - -Thorndyke took up the frame and examined it. It enclosed two sheets -of glass, one being the portion of the window-pane and the other a -cover-glass to protect the finger prints. Laying a sheet of white -paper on the table, where the light was strongest, Thorndyke held the -frame over it and gazed at the glass in silence, but with that faint -lighting up of his impassive face which I knew so well and which -meant so much to me. I walked round, and looking over his shoulder -saw upon the glass the beautifully distinct imprints of four fingers -and a thumb--the finger-tips, in fact, of an open hand. - -After regarding the frame attentively for some time, Thorndyke -produced from his pocket a little wash-leather bag, from which he -extracted a powerful doublet lens, and with the aid of this he again -explored the finger-prints, dwelling especially upon the print of the -forefinger. - -“I don’t think you will find much amiss with those finger-prints, -doctor,” said the superintendent, “they are as clear as if he made -them on purpose.” - -“They are indeed,” replied Thorndyke, with an inscrutable smile, -“exactly as if he had made them on purpose. And how beautifully clean -the glass is--as if he had polished it before making the impression.” - -The superintendent glanced at Thorndyke with quick suspicion; but the -smile had faded and given place to a wooden immobility from which -nothing could be gleaned. - -When he had examined the glass exhaustively, Thorndyke drew the -finger-print form from its envelope and scanned it quickly, glancing -repeatedly from the paper to the glass and from the glass to the -paper. At length he laid them both on the table, and turning to the -detective looked him steadily in the face. - -“I think, Miller,” said he, “that I can give you a hint.” - -“Indeed, sir? And what might that be?” - -“It is this: you are after the wrong man.” - -The Superintendent snorted--not a loud snort, for that would have -been rude, and no officer could be more polite than Superintendent -Miller. But it conveyed a protest which he speedily followed up in -words. - -“You don’t mean to say that the prints on that glass are not the -finger-prints of Frank Belfield?” - -“I say that those prints were not made by Frank Belfield,” Thorndyke -replied firmly. - -“Do you admit, sir, that the finger-prints on the official form were -made by him?” - -“I have no doubt that they were.” - -“Well, sir, Mr. Singleton, of the Finger-print Department, has -compared the prints on the glass with those on the form and he says -they are identical; and I have examined them and I say they are -identical.” - -“Exactly,” said Thorndyke; “and I have examined them and I say they -are identical--and that therefore those on the glass cannot have been -made by Belfield.” - -The Superintendent Snorted again--somewhat louder this time--and -gazed at Thorndyke with wrinkled brows. - -“You are not pulling my leg, I suppose, sir?” he asked, a little -sourly. - -“I should as soon think of tickling a porcupine,” Thorndyke answered, -with a suave smile. - -“Well,” rejoined the bewildered detective, “if I didn’t know you, -sir, I should say you were talking confounded nonsense. Perhaps you -wouldn’t mind explaining what you mean.” - -“Supposing,” said Thorndyke, “I make it clear to you that those -prints on the window-pane were not made by Belfield. Would you still -execute the warrant?” - -“What do _you_ think?” exclaimed Miller. “Do you suppose we should go -into court to have you come and knock the bottom out of our case, -like you did in that Hornby affair--by the way, that was a -finger-print case too, now I come to think of it,” and the -superintendent suddenly became thoughtful. - -“You have often complained,” pursued Thorndyke, “that I have withheld -information from you and sprung unexpected evidence on you at the -trial. Now I am going to take you into my confidence, and when I have -proved to you that this clue of yours is a false one, I shall expect -you to let this poor devil Belfield go his way in peace.” - -The superintendent grunted--a form of utterance that committed him to -nothing. - -“These prints,” continued Thorndyke, taking up the frame once more, -“present several features of interest, one of which, at least, ought -not to have escaped you and Mr. Singleton, as it seems to have done. -Just look at that thumb.” - -The superintendent did so, and then pored over the official paper. - -“Well,” he said, “I don’t see anything the matter with it. It’s -exactly like the print on the paper.” - -“Of course it is,” rejoined Thorndyke, “and that is just the point. -It ought not to be. The print of the thumb on the paper was taken -separately from the fingers. And why? Because it was impossible to -take it at the same time. The thumb is in a different plane from the -fingers; when the hand is laid flat on any surface--as this -window-pane, for instance--the palmar surfaces of the fingers touch -it, whereas it is the _side_ of the thumb which comes in contact and -not the palmar surface. But in this”--he tapped the framed glass with -his finger--“the prints show the palmar surfaces of all the five -digits in contact at once, which is an impossibility. Just try to put -your own thumb in that position and you will see that it is so.” - -The detective spread out his hand on the table and immediately -perceived the truth of my colleague’s statement. - -“And what does that prove?” he asked. - -“It proves that the thumb-print on the window-pane was not made at -the same time as the finger-prints--that it was added separately; and -that fact seems to prove that the prints were not made accidentally, -but--as you ingeniously suggested just now--were put there for a -purpose.” - -“I don’t quite see the drift of all this,” said the superintendent, -rubbing the back of his head perplexedly; “and you said a while back -that the prints on the glass can’t be Belfield’s because they are -identical with the prints on the form. Now that seems to me sheer -nonsense, if you will excuse my saying so.” - -“And yet,” replied Thorndyke, “it is the actual fact. Listen: these -prints”--here he took up the official sheet--“were taken at Holloway -six years ago. These”--pointing to the framed glass--“were made -within the present week. The one is, as regards the ridge-pattern, a -perfect duplicate of the other. Is that not so?” - -“That is so, doctor,” agreed the superintendent. - -“Very well. Now suppose I were to tell you that within the last -twelve months something had happened to Belfield that made an -appreciable change in the ridge-pattern on one of his fingers?” - -“But is such a thing possible?” - -“It is not only possible but it has happened. I will show you.” - -He brought forth from the drawer the cards on which Belfield had made -his finger-prints, and laid them before the detective. - -“Observe the prints of the forefinger,” he said, indicating them; -“there are a dozen, in all, and you will notice in each a white line -crossing the ridges and dividing them. That line is caused by a scar, -which has destroyed a portion of the ridges, and is now an integral -part of Belfield’s finger-print. And since no such blank line is to -be seen in this print on the glass--in which the ridges appear -perfect, as they were before the injury--it follows that that print -could not have been made by Belfield’s finger.” - -“There is no doubt about the injury, I suppose?” - -“None whatever. There is the scar to prove it, and I can produce the -surgeon who attended Belfield at the time.” - -The officer rubbed his head harder than before, and regarded -Thorndyke with puckered brows. - -“This is a teaser,” he growled, “it is indeed. What you say, sir, -seems perfectly sound, and yet--there are those finger-prints on the -window-glass. Now you can’t get finger prints without fingers, can -you?” - -“Undoubtedly you can,” said Thorndyke. - -“I should want to see that done before I could believe even you, -sir,” said Miller. - -“You shall see it done now,” was the calm rejoinder. “You have -evidently forgotten the Hornby case--the case of the Red Thumb-mark, -as the newspapers called it.” - -“I only heard part of it,” replied Miller, “and I didn’t really -follow the evidence in that.” - -“Well, I will show you a relic of that case,” said Thorndyke. He -unlocked a cabinet and took from one of the shelves a small box -labelled “Hornby,” which, being opened, was seen to contain a folded -paper, a little red-covered oblong book and what looked like a large -boxwood pawn. - -“This little book,” Thorndyke continued, “is a ‘thumbograph’--a sort -of finger-print album--I dare say you know the kind of thing.” - -The superintendent nodded contemptuously at the little volume. - -“Now while Dr. Jervis is finding us the print we want, I will run up -to the laboratory for an inked slab.” - -He handed me the little book and, as he left the room, I began to -turn over the leaves--not without emotion, for it was this very -“thumbograph” that first introduced me to my wife, as is related -elsewhere--glancing at the various prints above the familiar names -and marvelling afresh at the endless variations of pattern that they -displayed. At length I came upon two thumb-prints of which one--the -left--was marked by a longitudinal white line--evidently the trace of -a scar; and underneath them was written the signature “Reuben Hornby.” - -At this moment Thorndyke re-entered the room carrying the inked slab, -which he laid on the table, and seating him self between the -superintendent and me, addressed the former. - -“Now, Miller, here are two thumb-prints made by a gentleman named -Reuben Hornby. Just glance at the left one; it is a highly -characteristic print.” - -“Yes,” agreed Miller, “one could swear to that from memory, I should -think.” - -“Then look at this.” Thorndyke took the paper from the box and, -unfolding it, handed it to the detective. It bore a pencilled -inscription, and on it were two blood-smears and a very distinct -thumb-print in blood. “What do you say to that thumb-print?” - -“Why,” answered Miller, “it’s this one, of course; Reuben Hornby’s -left thumb.” - -“Wrong, my friend,” said Thorndyke. “It was made by an ingenious -gentleman named Walter Hornby (whom you followed from the Old Bailey -and lost on Ludgate Hill); but not with his thumb.” - -“How, then?” demanded the superintendent incredulously. - -“In this way.” Thorndyke took the boxwood “pawn” from its receptacle -and pressed its flat base onto the inked slab; then lifted it and -pressed it onto the back of a visiting-card, and again raised it; and -now the card was marked by a very distinct thumb-print. - -“My God!” exclaimed the detective, picking up the card and viewing it -with a stare of dismay, “this is the very devil, sir. This fairly -knocks the bottom out of finger-print identification. May I ask, sir, -how you made that stamp--for I suppose you did make it?” - -“Yes, we made it here, and the process we used was practically that -used by photo-engravers in making line blocks; that is to say, we -photographed one of Mr. Hornby’s thumb-prints, printed it on a plate -of chrome-gelatine, developed the plate with hot water and -this”--here he touched the embossed surface of the stamp--“is what -remained. But we could have done it in various other ways; for -instance, with common transfer paper and lithographic stone; indeed, -I assure you, Miller, that there is nothing easier to forge than a -finger-print, and it can be done with such perfection that the forger -himself cannot tell his own forgery from a genuine original, even -when they are placed side by side.” - -“Well, I’m hanged,” grunted the superintendent, “you’ve fairly -knocked me, this time, doctor.” He rose gloomily and prepared to -depart. “I suppose,” he added, “your interest in this case has -lapsed, now Belfield’s out of it?” - -“Professionally, yes; but I am disposed to finish the case for my own -satisfaction. I am quite curious as to who our too-ingenious friend -may be.” - -Miller’s face brightened. “We shall give you every facility, you -know--and that reminds me that Singleton gave me these two -photographs for you, one of the official paper and one of the prints -on the glass. Is there anything more that we can do for you?” - -“I should like to have a look at the room in which the murder took -place.” - -“You shall, doctor; tomorrow, if you like; I’ll meet you there in the -morning at ten, if that will do.” - -It would do excellently, Thorndyke assured him, and with this the -superintendent took his departure in renewed spirits. - -We had only just closed the door when there came a hurried and urgent -tapping upon it, whereupon I once more threw it open, and a -quietly-dressed woman in a thick veil, who was standing on the -threshold, stepped quickly past me into the room. - -“Where is my husband?” she demanded, as I closed the door; and then, -catching sight of Thorndyke, she strode up to him with a threatening -air and a terrified but angry face. - -“What have you done with my husband, sir?” she repeated. “Have you -betrayed him, after giving your word? I met a man who looked like a -police officer on the stairs.” - -“Your husband, Mrs. Belfield, is here and quite safe,” replied -Thorndyke. “He has locked himself in that room,” indicating the -office. - -Mrs. Belfield darted across and rapped smartly at the door. “Are you -there, Frank?” she called. - -In immediate response the key turned, the door opened and Belfield -emerged looking very pale and worn. - -“You _have_ kept me a long time in there, sir,” he said. - -“It took me a long time to prove to Superintendent Miller that he was -after the wrong man. But I succeeded, and now, Belfield, you are -free. The charge against you is withdrawn.” - -Belfield stood for a while as one stupefied, while his wife, after a -moment of silent amazement, flung her arms round his neck and burst -into tears. “But how did you know I was innocent, sir?” demanded the -bewildered Belfield. - -“Ah! how did I? Every man to his trade, you know. Well, I -congratulate you, and now go home and have a square meal and get a -good night’s rest.” - -He shook hands with his clients--vainly endeavouring to prevent Mrs. -Belfield from kissing his hand--and stood at the open door listening -until the sound of their retreating footsteps died away. - -“A noble little woman, Jervis,” said he, as he closed the door. “In -another moment she would have scratched my face--and I mean to find -out the scoundrel who tried to wreck her happiness.” - - -PART II - -THE SHIP OF THE DESERT - -The case which I am now about to describe has always appeared to me a -singularly instructive one, as illustrating the value and importance -of that fundamental rule in the carrying out of investigations which -Thorndyke had laid down so emphatically--the rule that all facts, in -any way relating to a case, should be collected impartially and -without reference to any theory, and each fact, no matter how trivial -or apparently irrelevant, carefully studied. But I must not -anticipate the remarks of my learned and talented friend on this -subject which I have to chronicle anon; rather let me proceed to the -case itself. - -I had slept at our chambers in King’s Bench Walk--as I commonly did -two or three nights a week--and on coming down to the sitting-room, -found Thorndyke’s man, Polton, putting the last touches to the -breakfast-table, while Thorndyke himself was poring over two -photographs of finger-prints, of which he seemed to be taking -elaborate measurements with a pair of hair-dividers. He greeted me -with his quiet, genial smile and, laying down the dividers, took his -seat at the breakfast-table. - -“You are coming with me this morning, I suppose,” said he; “the -Camberwell murder case, you know.” - -“Of course I am if you will have me, but I know practically nothing -of the case. Could you give me an outline of the facts that are -known?” - -Thorndyke looked at me solemnly, but with a mischievous twinkle. -“This,” he said, “is the old story of the fox and the crow; you ‘bid -me discourse,’ and while I ‘enchant thine ear,’ you claw to windward -with the broiled ham. A deep-laid plot, my learned brother.” - -“And such,” I exclaimed, “is the result of contact with the criminal -classes!” - -“I am sorry that you regard yourself in that light,” he retorted, -with a malicious smile. “However, with regard to this case. The facts -are briefly these: The murdered man, Caldwell, who seems to have been -formerly a receiver of stolen goods and probably a police spy as -well, lived a solitary life in a small house with only an elderly -woman to attend him. - -“A week ago this woman went to visit a married daughter and stayed -the night with her, leaving Caldwell alone in the house. When she -returned on the following morning she found her master lying dead on -the floor of his office, or study, in a small pool of blood. - -“The police surgeon found that he had been dead about twelve hours. -He had been killed by a single blow, struck from behind, with some -heavy implement, and a jemmy which lay on the floor beside him fitted -the wound exactly. The deceased wore a dressing-gown and no collar, -and a bedroom candlestick lay upside down on the floor, although gas -was laid on in the room; and as the window of the office appears to -have been forced with the jemmy that was found, and there were -distinct footprints on the flower-bed outside the window, the police -think that the deceased was undressing to go to bed when he was -disturbed by the noise of the opening window; that he went down to -the office and, as he entered, was struck down by the burglar who was -lurking behind the door. On the window-glass the police found the -greasy impression of an open right hand, and, as you know, the -finger-prints were identified by the experts as those of an old -convict named Belfield. As you also know, I proved that those -finger-prints were, in reality, forgeries, executed with rubber or -gelatine stamps. That is an outline of the case.” - -The close of this recital brought our meal to an end, and we prepared -for our visit to the scene of the crime. Thorndyke slipped into his -pocket his queer outfit--somewhat like that of a field -geologist--locked up the photographs, and we set forth by way of the -Embankment. - -“The police have no clue, I suppose, to the identity of the murderer, -now that the finger-prints have failed?” I asked, as we strode along -together. - -“I expect not,” he replied, “though they might have if they examined -their material. I made out a rather interesting point this morning, -which is this: the man who made those sham finger-prints used two -stamps, one for the thumb and the other for the four fingers; and the -original from which those stamps were made was the official -finger-print form.” - -“How did you discover that?” I inquired. - -“It was very simple. You remember that Mr. Singleton of the -Finger-print Department sent me, by Superintendent Miller, two -photographs, one of the prints on the window and one of the official -form with Belfield’s finger-prints on it. Well, I have compared them -and made the most minute measurements of each, and they are obviously -duplicates. Not only are all the little imperfections on the -form--due to defective inking--reproduced faithfully on the -window-pane, but the relative positions of the four fingers on both -cases agree to the hundredth of an inch. Of course the thumb stamp -was made by taking an oval out of the rolled impression on the form.” - -“Then do you suggest that this murder was committed by some one -connected with the Finger-print Department at Scotland Yard?” - -“Hardly. But some one has had access to the forms. There has been -leakage somewhere.” - -When we arrived at the little detached house in which the murdered -man had lived, the door was opened by an elderly woman, and our -friend, Superintendent Miller, greeted us in the hall. - -“We are all ready for you, doctor,” said he. “Of course, the things -have all been gone over once, but we are turning them out more -thoroughly now.” He led the way into the small, barely-furnished -office in which the tragedy had occurred. A dark-stain on the carpet -and a square hole in one of the window-panes furnished memorials of -the crime, which were supplemented by an odd assortment of objects -laid out on the newspaper-covered table. These included silver -teaspoons, watches, various articles of jewellery, from which the -stones had been removed--none of them of any considerable value--and -a roughly-made jemmy. - -“I don’t know why Caldwell should have kept all these odds and ends,” -said the detective superintendent. “There is stuff here, that I can -identify, from six different burglaries--and not a conviction among -the six.” - -Thorndyke looked over the collection with languid interest; he was -evidently disappointed at finding the room so completely turned out. - -“Have you any idea what has been taken?” he asked. - -“Not the least. We don’t even know if the safe was opened. The keys -were on the writing-table, so I suppose he went through everything, -though I don’t see why he left these things if he did. We found them -all in the safe.” - -“Have you powdered the jemmy?” - -The superintendent turned very red. “Yes,” he growled, “but some -half-dozen blithering idiots had handled the thing before I saw -it--been trying it on the window, the blighters--so, of course, it -showed nothing but the marks of their beastly paws.” - -“The window had not really been forced, I suppose?” said Thorndyke. - -“No,” replied Miller, with a glance of surprise at my colleague, -“that was a plant; so were the footprints. He must have put on a pair -of Caldwell’s boots and gone out and made them--unless Caldwell made -them himself, which isn’t likely.” - -“Have you found any letter or telegram?” - -“A letter making an appointment for nine o’clock on the night of the -murder. No signature or address, and the handwriting evidently -disguised.” - -“Is there anything that furnishes any sort of clue?” - -“Yes, sir, there is. There’s this, which we found in the safe.” He -produced a small parcel which he proceeded to unfasten, looking -somewhat queerly at Thorndyke the while. It contained various odds -and ends of jewellery, and a smaller parcel formed of a -pocket-handkerchief tied with tape. This the detective also -unfastened, revealing half-a-dozen silver teaspoons, all engraved -with the same crest, two salt-cellars and a gold locket bearing a -monogram. There was also a half sheet of notepaper on which was -written, in a manifestly disguised hand: “There are the goods I told -you about.--F. B.” But what riveted Thorndyke’s attention and mine -was the handkerchief itself (which was not a very clean one and was -sullied by one or two small bloodstains), for it was marked in one -corner with the name “F. Belfield,” legibly printed in marking-ink -with a rubber stamp. - -Thorndyke and the superintendent looked at one another and both -smiled. - -“I know what you are thinking, sir,” said the latter. - -“I am sure you do,” was the reply, “and it is useless to pretend that -you don’t agree with me.” - -“Well, sir,” said Miller doggedly, “if that handkerchief has been put -there as a plant, it’s Belfield’s business to prove it. You see, -doctor,” he added persuasively, “it isn’t this job only that’s -affected. Those spoons, those salt-cellars and that locket are part -of the proceeds of the Winchmore Hill burglary, and we want the -gentleman who did that crack--we want him very badly.” - -“No doubt you do,” replied Thorndyke, “but this handkerchief won’t -help you. A sharp counsel--Mr. Anstey, for instance--would demolish -it in five minutes. I assure you, Miller, that handkerchief has no -evidential value whatever, whereas it might prove an invaluable -instrument of research. The best thing you can do is to hand it over -to me and let me see what I can learn from it.” - -The superintendent was obviously dissatisfied, but he eventually -agreed, with manifest reluctance, to Thorndyke’s suggestion. - -“Very well, doctor,” he said; “you shall have it for a day or two. Do -you want the spoons and things as well?” - -“No. Only the handkerchief and the paper that was in it.” - -The two articles were accordingly handed to him and deposited in a -tin box which he usually carried in his pocket, and, after a few more -words with the disconsolate detective, we took our departure. - -“A very disappointing morning,” was Thorndyke’s comment as we walked -away. “Of course the room ought to have been examined by an expert -before anything was moved.” - -“Have you picked up anything in the way of information?” I asked. - -“Very little excepting confirmation of my original theory. You see, -this man Caldwell was a receiver and evidently a police spy. He gave -useful information to the police, and they, in return, refrained from -inconvenient inquiries. But a spy, or ‘nark,’ is nearly always a -blackmailer too, and the probabilities in this case are that some -crook, on whom Caldwell was putting the screw rather too tightly, -made an appointment for a meeting when the house was empty, and just -knocked Caldwell on the head. The crime was evidently planned -beforehand, and the murderer came prepared to kill several birds with -one stone. Thus he brought with him the stamps to make the sham -finger-prints on the window, and I have no doubt that he also brought -this handkerchief and the various oddments of plate and jewellery -from those burglaries that Miller is so keen about, and planted them -in the safe. You noticed, I suppose, that none of the things were of -any value, but all were capable of easy identification?” - -“Yes, I noticed that. His object, evidently, was to put those -burglaries as well as the murder onto poor Belfield.” - -“Exactly. And you see what Miller’s attitude is; Belfield is the bird -in the hand, whereas the other man--if there is another--is still in -the bush; so Belfield is to be followed up and a conviction obtained -if possible. If he is innocent, that is his affair, and it is for him -to prove it.” - -“And what shall you do next?” I asked. - -“I shall telegraph to Belfield to come and see us this evening. He -may be able to tell us something about this handkerchief that, with -the clue we already have, may put us on the right track. What time is -your consultation?” - -“Twelve-thirty--and here comes my ’bus. I shall be in to lunch.” I -sprang onto the footboard, and as I took my seat on the roof and -looked back at my friend striding along with an easy swing, I knew -that he was deep in thought, though automatically attentive to all -that was happening. - -My consultation--it was a lunacy case of some importance--was over in -time to allow of my return to our chambers punctually at the luncheon -hour; and as I entered, I was at once struck by something new in -Thorndyke’s manner--a certain elation and gaiety which I had learned -to associate with a point scored successfully in some intricate and -puzzling case. He made no confidences, however, and seemed, in fact, -inclined to put away, for a time, all his professional cares and -business. - -“Shall we have an afternoon off, Jervis?” he said gaily. “It is a -fine day and work is slack just now. What say you to the Zoo? They -have a splendid chimpanzee and several specimens of that remarkable -fish _Periophthalmos Kölreuteri_. Shall we go?” - -“By all means,” I replied; “and we will mount the elephant, if you -like, and throw buns to the grizzly bear and generally renew our -youth like the eagle.” - -But when, an hour later, we found ourselves in the gardens, I began -to suspect my friend of some ulterior purpose in this holiday jaunt; -for it was not the chimpanzee or even the wonderful fish that -attracted his attention. On the contrary, he hung about the vicinity -of the lamas and camels in a way that I could not fail to notice; and -even there it appeared to be the sheds and houses rather than the -animals themselves that interested him. - -“Behold, Jervis,” he said presently, as a saddled camel of seedy -aspect was led towards its house, “behold the ship of the desert, -with raised saloon-deck amidships, fitted internally with watertight -compartments and displaying the effects of rheumatoid arthritis in -his starboard hip-joint. Let us go and examine him before he hauls -into dock.” We took a cross-path to intercept the camel on its way to -its residence, and Thorndyke moralized as we went. - -“It is interesting,” he remarked, “to note the way in which these -specialized animals, such as the horse, the reindeer and the camel, -have been appropriated by man, and their special character made to -subserve human needs. Think, for instance, of the part the camel has -played in history, in ancient commerce--and modern too, for that -matter--and in the diffusion of culture; and of the rôle he has -enacted in war and conquest from the Egyptian campaign of Cambyses -down to that of Kitchener. Yes, the camel is a very remarkable -animal, though it must be admitted that this particular specimen is a -scurvy-looking beast.” - -The camel seemed to be sensible of these disparaging remarks, for as -it approached it saluted Thorndyke with a supercilious grin and then -turned away its head. - -“Your charge is not as young as he used to be,” Thorndyke observed to -the man who was leading the animal. - -“No, sir, he isn’t; he’s getting old, and that’s the fact. He shows -it too.” - -“I suppose,” said Thorndyke, strolling towards the house by the man’s -side, “these beasts require a deal of attention?” - -“You’re right, sir; and nasty-tempered brutes they are.” - -“So I have heard; but they are interesting creatures, the camels and -lamas. Do you happen to know if complete sets of photographs of them -are to be had here?” - -“You can get a good many at the lodge, sir,” the man replied, “but -not all, I think. If you want a complete set, there’s one of our men -in the camel-house that could let you have them; he takes the photos -himself, and very clever he is at it, too. But he isn’t here just -now.” - -“Perhaps you could give me his name so that I could write to him,” -said Thorndyke. - -“Yes, sir. His name is Woodthorpe--Joseph Woodthorpe. He’ll do -anything for you to order. Thank you, sir; good afternoon, sir;” and -pocketing an unexpected tip, the man led his charge towards its lair. - -Thorndyke’s absorbing interest in the camelidæ seemed now suddenly to -become extinct, and he suffered me to lead him to any part of the -gardens that attracted me, showing an imperial interest in all the -inmates from the insects to the elephants, and enjoying his -holiday--if it was one--with the gaiety and high spirits of a -schoolboy. Yet he never let slip a chance of picking up a stray hair -or feather, but gathered up each with care, wrapped it in its -separate paper, on which was written its description, and deposited -it in his tin collecting-box. - -“You never know,” he remarked, as we turned away from the ostrich -enclosure, “when a specimen for comparison may be of vital -importance. Here, for instance, is a small feather of a cassowary, -and here the hair of a wapiti deer; now the recognition of either of -those might, in certain circumstances, lead to the detection of a -criminal or save the life of an innocent man. The thing has happened -repeatedly, and may happen again tomorrow.” - -“You must have an enormous collection of hairs in your cabinet,” I -remarked, as we walked home. - -“I have,” he replied, “probably the largest in the world. And as to -other microscopical objects of medico-legal interest, such as dust -and mud from different localities and from special industries and -manufactures, fibres, food-products and drugs, my collection is -certainly unique.” - -“And you have found your collection useful in your work?” I asked. - -“Constantly. Over and over again I have obtained, by reference to my -specimens, the most unexpected evidence, and the longer I practise, -the more I become convinced that the microscope is the sheet-anchor -of the medical jurist.” - -“By the way,” I said, “you spoke of sending a telegram to Belfield. -Did you send it?” - -“Yes. I asked him to come to see me to-night at half-past eight, and, -if possible, bring his wife with him. I want to get to the bottom of -that handkerchief mystery.” - -“But do you think he will tell you the truth about it?” - -“That is impossible to judge; he will be a fool if he does not. But I -think he will; he has a godly fear of me and my methods.” - -As soon as our dinner was finished and cleared away, Thorndyke -produced the “collecting-box” from his pocket and began to sort out -the day’s “catch,” giving explicit directions to Polton for the -disposal of each specimen. The hairs and small feathers were to be -mounted as microscopic objects, while the larger feathers were to be -placed, each in its separate labelled envelope, in its appropriate -box. While these directions were being given, I stood by the window -absently gazing out as I listened, gathering many a useful hint in -the technique of preparation and preservation, and filled with -admiration alike at my colleague’s exhaustive knowledge of practical -detail and the perfect manner in which he had trained his assistant. -Suddenly I started, for a well-known figure was crossing from Crown -Office Row and evidently bearing down on our chambers. - -“My word, Thorndyke,” I exclaimed, “here’s a pretty mess!” - -“What is the matter?” he asked, looking up anxiously. - -“Superintendent Miller heading straight for our doorway. And it is -now twenty minutes past eight.” - -Thorndyke laughed. “It will be a quaint position,” he remarked, “and -somewhat of a shock for Belfield. But it really doesn’t matter; in -fact, I think, on the whole, I am rather pleased that he should have -come.” - -The superintendent’s brisk knock was heard a few moments later, and -when he was admitted by Polton, he entered and looked round the room -a little sheepishly. - -“I am ashamed to come worrying you like this, sir,” he began -apologetically. - -“Not at all,” replied Thorndyke, serenely slipping the cassowary’s -feather into an envelope, and writing the name, date and locality on -the outside. “I am your servant in this case, you know. Polton, -whisky and soda for the superintendent.” - -“You see, sir,” continued Miller, “our people are beginning to fuss -about this case, and they don’t approve of my having handed that -handkerchief and the paper over to you as they will have to be put in -evidence.” - -“I thought they might object,” remarked Thorndyke. - -“So did I, sir; and they do. And, in short, they say that I have got -to get them back at once. I hope it won’t put you out, sir.” - -“Not in the least,” said Thorndyke. “I have asked Belfield to come -here to-night--I expect him in a few minutes--and when I have heard -what he has to say I shall have no further use for the handkerchief.” - -“You’re not going to show it to him!” exclaimed the detective, aghast. - -“Certainly I am.” - -“You mustn’t do that, sir. I can’t sanction it; I can’t indeed.” - -“Now, look you here, Miller,” said Thorndyke, shaking his forefinger -at the officer; “I am working for you in this case, as I have told -you. Leave the matter in my hands. Don’t raise silly objections; and -when you leave here to night you will take with you not only the -handkerchief and the paper, but probably also the name and address of -the man who committed this murder and those various burglaries that -you are so keen about.” - -“Is that really so, sir?” exclaimed the astonished detective. “Well, -you haven’t let the grass grow under your feet. Ah!” as a gentle rap -at the door was heard, “here’s Belfield, I suppose.” - -It was Belfield--accompanied by his wife--and mightily disturbed they -were when their eyes lighted on our visitor. - -“You needn’t be afraid of me, Belfield,” said Miller, with ferocious -geniality; “I am not here after you.” Which was not literally true, -though it served to reassure the affrighted ex-convict. - -“The superintendent dropped in by chance,” said Thorndyke; “but it is -just as well that he should hear what passes. I want you to look at -this handkerchief and tell me if it is yours. Don’t be afraid, but -just tell us the simple truth.” - -He took the handkerchief out of a drawer and spread it on the table; -and I now observed that a small square had been cut out of one of the -bloodstains. - -Belfield took the handkerchief in his trembling hands, and as his eye -fell on the stamped name in the corner he turned deadly pale. - -“It looks like mine,” he said huskily. “What do you say, Liz?” he -added, passing it to his wife. - -Mrs. Belfield examined first the name and then the hem. “It’s yours, -right enough, Frank,” said she. “It’s the one that got changed in the -wash. You see, sir,” she continued, addressing Thorndyke, “I bought -him half-a-dozen new ones about six months ago, and I got a rubber -stamp made and marked them all. Well, one day when I was looking over -his things I noticed that one of his handkerchiefs had got no mark on -it. I spoke to the laundress about it, but she couldn’t explain it, -so as the right one never came back, I marked the one that we got in -exchange.” - -“How long ago was that?” asked Thorndyke. - -“About two months ago I noticed it.” - -“And you know nothing more about it.” - -“Nothing whatever, sir. Nor you, Frank, do you?” - -Her husband shook his head gloomily, and Thorndyke replaced the -handkerchief in the drawer. - -“And now,” said he, “I am going to ask you a question on another -subject. When you were at Holloway there was a warder--or assistant -warder--there, named Woodthorpe. Do you remember him?” - -“Yes, sir, very well indeed; in fact, it was him that----” - -“I know,” interrupted Thorndyke. “Have you seen him since you left -Holloway?” - -“Yes, sir, once. It was last Easter Monday. I met him at the Zoo; he -is a keeper there now in the camel-house” (here a sudden light dawned -upon me and I chuckled aloud, to Belfield’s great astonishment). “He -gave my little boy a ride on one of the camels and made himself very -pleasant.” - -“Do you remember anything else happening?” Thorndyke inquired. - -“Yes, sir. The camel had a little accident; he kicked out--he was an -ill-tempered beast--and his leg hit a post; there happened to be a -nail sticking out from that post, and it tore up a little flap of -skin. Then Woodthorpe got out his hand kerchief to tie up the wound, -but as it was none of the cleanest, I said to him: ‘Don’t use that, -Woodthorpe; have mine,’ which was quite a clean one. So he took it -and bound up the camel’s leg, and he said to me: ‘I’ll have it washed -and send it to you if you give me your address.’ But I told him there -was no need for that; I should be passing the camel-house on my way -out and I would look in for the handkerchief. And I did: I looked in -about an hour later, and Woodthorpe gave me my handkerchief, folded -up but not washed.” - -“Did you examine it to see if it was yours?” asked Thorndyke. - -“No, sir. I just slipped it in my pocket as it was.” - -“And what became of it afterwards?” - -“When I got home I dropped it into the dirty-linen basket.” - -“Is that all you know about it?” - -“Yes, sir; that is all I know.” - -“Very well, Belfield, that will do. Now you have no reason to be -uneasy. You will soon know all about the Camberwell murder--that is, -if you read the papers.” - -The ex-convict and his wife were obviously relieved by this assurance -and departed in quite good spirits. When they were gone, Thorndyke -produced the handkerchief and the half-sheet of paper and handed them -to the superintendent, remarking-- - -“This is highly satisfactory, Miller; the whole case seems to join up -very neatly indeed. Two months ago the wife first noticed the -substituted handkerchief, and last Easter Monday--a little over two -months ago--this very significant incident took place in the -Zoological Gardens.” - -“That is all very well, sir,” objected the superintendent, “but we’ve -only their word for it, you know.” - -“Not so,” replied Thorndyke. “We have excellent corroborative -evidence. You noticed that I had cut a small piece out of the -bloodstained portion of the handkerchief?” - -“Yes; and I was sorry you had done it. Our people won’t like that.” - -“Well, here it is, and we will ask Dr. Jervis to give us his opinion -of it.” - -From the drawer in which the handkerchief had been hidden he brought -forth a microscope slide, and setting the microscope on the table, -laid the slide on the stage. - -“Now, Jervis,” he said, “tell us what you see there.” - -I examined the edge of the little square of fabric (which had been -mounted in a fluid reagent) with a high-power objective, and was, for -a time, a little puzzled by the appearance of the blood that adhered -to it. - -“It looks like bird’s blood,” I said presently, with some hesitation, -“but yet I can make out no nuclei.” I looked again, and then, -suddenly, “By Jove!” I exclaimed, “I have it; of course! It’s the -blood of a camel!” - -“Is that so, doctor?” demanded the detective, leaning forward in his -excitement. - -“That is so,” replied Thorndyke. “I discovered it after I came home -this morning. You see,” he explained, “it is quite unmistakable. The -rule is that the blood corpuscles of mammals are circular; the one -exception is the camel family, in which the corpuscles are -elliptical.” - -“Why,” exclaimed Miller, “that seems to connect Woodthorpe with this -Camberwell job.” - -“It connects him with it very conclusively,” said Thorndyke. “You are -forgetting the finger-prints.” - -The detective looked puzzled. “What about them?” he asked. - -“They were made with stamps--two stamps, as a matter of fact--and -those stamps were made by photographic process from the official -finger-print form. I can prove that beyond all doubt.” - -“Well, suppose they were. What then?” - -Thorndyke opened a drawer and took out a photograph, which he handed -to Miller. “Here,” he said, “is the photograph of the official -finger-print form which you were kind enough to bring me. What does -it say at the bottom there?” and he pointed with his finger. - -The superintendent read aloud: “Impressions taken by Joseph -Woodthorpe. Rank, Warder; Prison, Holloway.” He stared at the -photograph for a moment, and then exclaimed-- - -“Well, I’m hanged! You _have_ worked this out neatly, doctor! and so -quick too. We’ll have Mr. Woodthorpe under lock and key the first -thing to-morrow morning. But how did he do it, do you think?” - -“He might have taken duplicate finger-prints and kept one form; the -prisoners would not know there was anything wrong; but he did not in -this case. He must have contrived to take a photograph of the form -before sending it in--it would take a skilful photographer only a -minute or two with a suitable hand-camera placed on a table at the -proper distance from the wall; and I have ascertained that he is a -skilful photographer. You will probably find the apparatus, and the -stamps too, when you search his rooms.” - -“Well, well. You do give us some surprises, doctor. But I must be off -now to see about this warrant. Good-night, sir, and many thanks for -your help.” - -When the superintendent had gone we sat for a while looking at one -another in silence. At length Thorndyke spoke. “Here is a case, -Jervis,” he said, “which, simple as it is, teaches a most invaluable -lesson--a lesson which you should take well to heart. It is this: -_The evidential value of any fact is an unknown quantity until the -fact has been examined._ That seems a self-evident truth, but like -many other self-evident truths, it is constantly overlooked in -practice. Take this present case. When I left Caldwell’s house this -morning the facts in my possession were these: (1) The man who -murdered Caldwell was directly or indirectly connected with the -Finger-print Department. (2) He was almost certainly a skilled -photographer. (3) He probably committed the Winchmore Hill and the -other burglaries. (4) He was known to Caldwell, had had professional -dealings with him and was probably being blackmailed. This was all; a -very vague clue, as you see. - -“There was the handkerchief, planted, as I had no doubt, but could -not prove; the name stamped on it was Belfield’s, but any one can get -a rubber stamp made. Then it was stained with blood, as handkerchiefs -often are; that blood might or might not be human blood; it did not -seem to matter a straw whether it was or not. Nevertheless, I said to -myself: If it is human, or at least mammalian blood, that is a fact; -and if it is not human blood, that is also a fact. I will have that -fact, and then I shall know what its value is. I examined the stain -when I reached home, and behold! it was camel’s blood; and -immediately this insignificant fact swelled up into evidence of -primary importance. The rest was obvious. I had seen Woodthorpe’s -name on the form, and I knew several other officials. My business was -to visit all places in London where there were camels, to get the -names of all persons connected with them and to ascertain if any -among them was a photographer. Naturally I went first to the Zoo, and -at the very first cast hooked Joseph Woodthorpe. Wherefore I say -again: Never call any fact irrelevant until you have examined it.” - -The remarkable evidence given above was not heard at the trial, nor -did Thorndyke’s name appear among the witnesses; for when the police -searched Woodthorpe’s rooms, so many incriminating articles were -found (including a pair of finger-print stamps which exactly answered -to Thorndyke’s description of them, and a number of photographs of -finger-print forms) that his guilt was put beyond all doubt; and -society was shortly after relieved of a very undesirable member. - - - - THE END - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Dr. Thorndyke, by -R. 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Austin Freeman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Adventures of Dr. Thorndyke - (The Singing Bone) - -Author: R. Austin Freeman - -Release Date: May 11, 2019 [EBook #59478] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF DR. THORNDYKE *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Lins - - - - - -</pre> - - - <p id="cover"></p> - - <div class="calibre2"> - <img alt="cover" src="images/cover.jpg"><br> - </div> - -<hr id="Title_Page"> - -<p class="calibre12" style="font-weight: normal">GREAT STORIES OF A GREAT DETECTIVE</p> - -<h1 class="calibre1">The Adventures of<br> - -DR. THORNDYKE</h1> - -<p class="calibre5" style="font-size: 150%; margin-top: 0.2em; margin-bottom: 2em">(The Singing Bone)</p> - -<p class="calibre5" style="font-size: 200%; font-weight: bold; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 2em">By R. AUSTIN FREEMAN</p> - -<div class="calibre2"> - <img alt="title" src="images/title.jpg"><br> - </div> - -<p class="calibre12" style="margin-top: 4em; font-weight: normal">POPULAR LIBRARY • NEW YORK</p> - -<hr id="Verso"> - - -<p class="calibre12" style="margin-bottom: 10em; font-weight: normal">POPULAR LIBRARY EDITION</p> - -<p class="calibre3">COMPLETE AND<br> - -UNABRIDGED</p> - -<p class="calibre5" style="font-size: 90%; margin-bottom: 0; font-family: sans-serif;">Originally published under the title of</p> - -<p class="calibre5" style="font-size: 160%; margin-top: 0.3em; margin-bottom: 1em; font-family: sans-serif;">THE SINGING BONE</p> - -<hr style="clear: both; width: 5%"> - -<p class="calibre5" style="margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0.2em; font-family: sans-serif;">COPYRIGHT MCMXXIII</p> - -<p class="calibre5" style="margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0.2em; font-family: sans-serif;">By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC.</p> - -<p class="calibre5" style="margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0.2em; font-family: sans-serif;">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> - -<p class="calibre5" style="margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; font-family: sans-serif;">ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p> - -<p class="calibre5" style="font-size: 90%;font-family: sans-serif;">By arrangement with Dodd, Mead and Company, Inc.</p> - -<hr id="Preface"> - -<h2 class="calibre12" style="margin-bottom: 1.5em">PREFACE</h2> - -<p><span class="firstletter">T</span><span style="font-variant: small-caps">he</span> peculiar construction of the first four stories in the present -collection will probably strike both reader and critic and seem to -call for some explanation, which I accordingly proceed to supply.</p> - -<p>In the conventional “detective story” the interest is made to focus -on the question, “Who did it?” The identity of the criminal is a -secret that is jealously guarded up to the very end of the book, and -its disclosure forms the final climax.</p> - -<p>This I have always regarded as somewhat of a mistake. In real life, -the identity of the criminal is a question of supreme importance for -practical reasons; but in fiction, where no such reasons exist, I -conceive the interest of the reader to be engaged chiefly by the -demonstration of unexpected consequences of simple actions, of -unsuspected causal connections, and by the evolution of an ordered -train of evidence from a mass of facts apparently incoherent and -unrelated. The reader’s curiosity is concerned not so much with the -question “Who did it?” as with the question “How was the discovery -achieved?” That is to say, the ingenious reader is interested more in -the intermediate action than in the ultimate result.</p> - -<p>The offer by a popular author of a prize to the reader who should -identify the criminal in a certain “detective story,” exhibiting as -it did the opposite view, suggested to me an interesting question.</p> - -<p>Would it be possible to write a detective story in which from the -outset the reader was taken entirely into the author’s confidence, -was made an actual witness of the crime and furnished with every fact -that could possibly be used in its detection? Would there be any -story left when the reader had all the facts? I believed that there -would; and as an experiment to test the justice of my belief, I wrote -“The Case of Oscar Brodski.” Here the usual conditions are reversed; -the reader knows everything, the detective knows nothing, and the -interest focuses on the unexpected significance of trivial -circumstances.</p> - -<p>By excellent judges on both sides of the Atlantic—including the -editor of <span class="calibre15">Pearson’s Magazine</span>—this story was so far approved of -that I was invited to produce others of the same type.</p> - -<p>Three more were written and are here included together with one of -the more orthodox character, so that the reader can judge of the -respective merits of the two methods of narration.</p> - -<p>Nautical readers will observe that I have taken the liberty (for -obvious reasons connected with the law of libel) of planting a -screw-pile lighthouse on the Girdler Sand in place of the -light-vessel. I mention the matter to forestall criticism and save -readers the trouble of writing to point out the error.</p> - -<p style="text-align: right;">R. A. F. </p> - -<p class="calibre15">Gravesend</p> - -<hr id="Contents"> - -<h2 class="calibre12" style="margin-bottom: 1.5em">CONTENTS</h2> - -<p class="calibre4"> I <a href="#toc1">THE CASE OF OSCAR BRODSKI</a></p> - -<p class="calibre6"> I <a href="#toc1_1">The Mechanism of Crime</a></p> - -<p class="calibre6" style="margin-bottom: 1.2em;"> II <a href="#toc1_2">The Mechanism of Detection</a><p> - -<p class="calibre4"> II <a href="#toc2">A CASE OF PREMEDITATION</a></p> - -<p class="calibre6"> I <a href="#toc2_1">The Elimination of Mr. Pratt</a></p> - -<p class="calibre6" style="margin-bottom: 1.2em;"> II <a href="#toc2_2">Rival Sleuth-Hounds</a></p> - -<p class="calibre4">III <a href="#toc3">THE ECHO OF A MUTINY</a></p> - -<p class="calibre6"> I <a href="#toc3_1">Death on the Girdler</a></p> - -<p class="calibre6" style="margin-bottom: 1.2em;"> II <a href="#toc3_2">“The Singing Bone”</a></p> - -<p class="calibre4">IV <a href="#toc4">A WASTREL’S ROMANCE</a></p> - -<p class="calibre6"> I <a href="#toc4_1">The Spinsters’ Guest</a></p> - -<p class="calibre6" style="margin-bottom: 1.2em;"> II <a href="#toc4_2">Munera Pulveris</a></p> - -<p class="calibre4"> V <a href="#toc5">THE OLD LAG</a></p> - -<p class="calibre6"> I <a href="#toc5_1">The Changed Immutable</a></p> - -<p class="calibre6"> II <a href="#toc5_2">The Ship of the Desert</a></p> - -<hr> - -<h2 class="calibre12" id="toc1">THE CASE OF OSCAR BRODSKI</h2> - -<h3 class="calibre10" id="toc1_1">PART I</h3> - -<p class="calibre7">THE MECHANISM OF CRIME</p> - -<p><span class="firstletter">A</span> <span style="font-variant: small-caps">surprising</span> amount of nonsense has been talked about conscience. On -the one hand remorse (or the “again-bite,” as certain scholars of -ultra-Teutonic leanings would prefer to call it); on the other hand -“an easy conscience”: these have been accepted as the determining -factors of happiness or the reverse.</p> - -<p>Of course there is an element of truth in the “easy conscience” view, -but it begs the whole question. A particularly hardy conscience may -be quite easy under the most unfavourable conditions—conditions in -which the more feeble conscience might be severely afflicted with the -“again-bite.” And, then, it seems to be the fact that some fortunate -persons have no conscience at all; a negative gift that raises them -above the mental vicissitudes of the common herd of humanity.</p> - -<p>Now, Silas Hickler was a case in point. No one, looking into his -cheerful, round face, beaming with benevolence and wreathed in -perpetual smiles, would have imagined him to be a criminal. Least of -all, his worthy, high-church house keeper, who was a witness to his -unvarying amiability, who constantly heard him carolling -light-heartedly about the house and noted his appreciative zest at -meal-times.</p> - -<p>Yet it is a fact that Silas earned his modest, though comfortable, -income by the gentle art of burglary. A precarious trade and risky -withal, yet not so very hazardous if pursued with judgment and -moderation. And Silas was eminently a man of judgment. He worked -invariably alone. He kept his own counsel. No confederate had he to -turn King’s Evidence at a pinch; no one he knew would bounce off in a -fit of temper to Scotland Yard. Nor was he greedy and thriftless, as -most criminals are. His “scoops” were few and far between, carefully -planned, secretly executed, and the proceeds judiciously invested in -“weekly property.”</p> - -<p>In early life Silas had been connected with the diamond industry, and -he still did a little rather irregular dealing. In the trade he was -suspected of transactions with I.D.B.’s, and one or two indiscreet -dealers had gone so far as to whisper the ominous word “fence.” But -Silas Smiled a benevolent smile and went his way. He knew what he -knew, and his clients in Amsterdam were not inquisitive.</p> - -<p>Such was Silas Hickler. As he strolled round his garden in the dusk -of an October evening, he seemed the very type of modest, -middle-class prosperity. He was dressed in the travelling suit that -he wore on his little continental trips; his bag was packed and stood -in readiness on the sitting room sofa. A parcel of diamonds -(purchased honestly, though without impertinent questions, at -Southampton) was in the inside pocket of his waistcoat, and another -more valuable parcel was stowed in a cavity in the heel of his right -boot. In an hour and a half it would be time for him to set out to -catch the boat train at the junction; meanwhile there was nothing to -do but to stroll round the fading garden and consider how he should -invest the proceeds of the impending deal. His housekeeper had gone -over to Welham for the week’s shopping, and would probably not be -back until eleven o’clock. He was alone in the premises and just a -trifle dull.</p> - -<p>He was about to turn into the house when his ear caught the sound of -footsteps on the unmade road that passed the end of the garden. He -paused and listened. There was no other dwelling near, and the road -led nowhere, fading away into the waste land beyond the house. Could -this be a visitor? It seemed unlikely, for visitors were few at Silas -Hickler’s house. Meanwhile the footsteps continued to approach, -ringing out with increasing loudness on the hard, stony path.</p> - -<p>Silas strolled down to the gate, and, leaning on it, looked out with -some curiosity. Presently a glow of light showed him the face of a -man, apparently lighting his pipe; then a dim figure detached itself -from the enveloping gloom, advanced towards him and halted opposite -the garden. The stranger removed a cigarette from his mouth and, -blowing out a cloud of smoke, asked—</p> - -<p>“Can you tell me if this road will take me to Badsham Junction?”</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Hickler, “but there is a footpath farther on that leads -to the station.”</p> - -<p>“Footpath!” growled the stranger. “I’ve had enough of footpaths. I -came down from town to Catley intending to walk across to the -junction. I started along the road, and then some fool directed me to -a short cut, with the result that I have been blundering about in the -dark for the last half-hour. My sight isn’t very good, you know,” he -added.</p> - -<p>“What train do you want to catch?” asked Hickler.</p> - -<p>“Seven fifty-eight,” was the reply.</p> - -<p>“I am going to catch that train myself,” said Silas, “but I shan’t be -starting for another hour. The station is only three-quarters of a -mile from here. If you like to come in and take a rest, we can walk -down together and then you’ll be sure of not missing your way.”</p> - -<p>“It’s very good of you,” said the stranger, peering, with spectacled -eyes, at the dark house, “but—I think——”</p> - -<p>“Might as well wait here as at the station,” said Silas in his genial -way, holding the gate open, and the stranger, after a momentary -hesitation, entered and, flinging away his cigarette, followed him to -the door of the cottage.</p> - -<p>The sitting-room was in darkness, save for the dull glow of the -expiring fire, but, entering before his guest, Silas applied a match -to the lamp that hung from the ceiling. As the flame leaped up, -flooding the little interior with light, the two men regarded one -another with mutual curiosity.</p> - -<p>“Brodski, by Jingo!” was Hickler’s silent commentary, as he looked at -his guest. “Doesn’t know me, evidently—wouldn’t, of course, after -all these years and with his bad eyesight. Take a seat, sir,” he -added aloud. “Will you join me in a little refreshment to while away -the time?”</p> - -<p>Brodski murmured an indistinct acceptance, and, as his host turned to -open a cupboard, he deposited his hat (a hard, grey felt) on a chair -in a corner, placed his bag on the edge of the table, resting his -umbrella against it, and sat down in a small arm-chair.</p> - -<p>“Have a biscuit?” said Hickler, as he placed a whisky-bottle on the -table together with a couple of his best star-pattern tumblers and a -siphon.</p> - -<p>“Thanks, I think I will,” said Brodski. “The railway journey and all -this confounded tramping about, you know——”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” agreed Silas. “Doesn’t do to start with an empty stomach. Hope -you don’t mind oat-cakes; I see they’re the only biscuits I have.”</p> - -<p>Brodski hastened to assure him that oat-cakes were his special and -peculiar fancy; and in confirmation, having mixed himself a stiff -jorum, he fell to upon the biscuits with evident gusto.</p> - -<p>Brodski was a deliberate feeder, and at present appeared to be -somewhat sharp set. His measured munching being unfavourable to -conversation, most of the talking fell to Silas; and, for once, that -genial transgressor found the task embarrassing. The natural thing -would have been to discuss his guest’s destination and perhaps the -object of his journey; but this was precisely what Hickler avoided -doing. For he knew both, and instinct told him to keep his knowledge -to himself.</p> - -<p>Brodski was a diamond merchant of considerable reputation, and in a -large way of business. He bought stones principally in the rough, and -of these he was a most excellent judge. His fancy was for stones of -somewhat unusual size and value, and it was well known to be his -custom, when he had accumulated a sufficient stock, to carry them -himself to Amsterdam and supervise the cutting of the rough stones. -Of this Hickler was aware, and he had no doubt that Brodski was now -starting on one of his periodical excursions; that somewhere in the -recesses of his rather shabby clothing was concealed a paper packet -possibly worth several thousand pounds.</p> - -<p>Brodski sat by the table munching monotonously and talking little. -Hickler sat opposite him, talking nervously and rather wildly at -times, and watching his guest with a growing fascination. Precious -stones, and especially diamonds, were Hickler’s specialty. “Hard -stuff”—silver plate—he avoided entirely; gold, excepting in the -form of specie, he seldom touched; but stones, of which he could -carry off a whole consignment in the heel of his boot and dispose of -with absolute safety, formed the staple of his industry. And here was -a man sitting opposite him with a parcel in his pocket containing the -equivalent of a dozen of his most successful “scoops”; stones worth -perhaps—— Here he pulled himself up short and began to talk -rapidly, though without much coherence. For, even as he talked, other -words, formed subconsciously, seemed to insinuate themselves into the -interstices of the sentences, and to carry on a parallel train of -thought.</p> - -<p>“Gets chilly in the evenings now, doesn’t it?” said Hickler.</p> - -<p>“It does indeed,” Brodski agreed, and then resumed his slow munching, -breathing audibly through his nose.</p> - -<p>“Five thousand at least,” the subconscious train of thought resumed; -“probably six or seven, perhaps ten.” Silas fidgeted in his chair and -endeavoured to concentrate his ideas on some topic of interest. He -was growing disagreeably conscious of a new and unfamiliar state of -mind.</p> - -<p>“Do you take any interest in gardening?” he asked. Next to diamonds -and weekly “property,” his besetting weakness was fuchsias.</p> - -<p>Brodski chuckled sourly. “Hatton Garden is the nearest approach——” -He broke off suddenly, and then added, “I am a Londoner, you know.”</p> - -<p>The abrupt break in the sentence was not unnoticed by Silas, nor had -he any difficulty in interpreting it. A man who carries untold wealth -upon his person must needs be wary in his speech.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he answered absently, “it’s hardly a Londoner’s hobby.” And -then, half consciously, he began a rapid calculation. Put it at five -thousand pounds. What would that represent in weekly property? His -last set of houses had cost two hundred and fifty pounds apiece, and -he had let them at ten shillings and sixpence a week. At that rate, -five thousand pounds represented twenty houses at ten and sixpence a -week—say ten pounds a week—one pound eight shillings a day—five -hundred and twenty pounds a year—for life. It was a competency. -Added to what he already had, it was wealth. With that income he -could fling the tools of his trade into the river and live out the -remainder of his life in comfort and security.</p> - -<p>He glanced furtively at his guest across the table, and then looked -away quickly as he felt stirring within him an impulse the nature of -which he could not mistake. This must be put an end to. Crimes -against the person he had always looked upon as sheer insanity. There -was, it is true, that little affair of the Weybridge policeman, but -that was unforeseen and unavoidable, and it was the constable’s doing -after all. And there was the old housekeeper at Epsom, too, but, of -course, if the old idiot would shriek in that insane fashion—well, -it was an accident, very regrettable, to be sure, and no one could be -more sorry for the mishap than himself. But deliberate -homicide!—robbery from the person! It was the act of a stark lunatic.</p> - -<p>Of course, if he had happened to be that sort of person, here was the -opportunity of a lifetime. The immense booty, the empty house, the -solitary neighbourhood, away from the main road and from other -habitations; the time, the darkness—but, of course, there was the -body to be thought of; that was always the difficulty. What to do -with the body—— Here he caught the shriek of the up express, -rounding the curve in the line that ran past the waste land at the -back of the house. The sound started a new train of thought, and, as -he followed it out, his eyes fixed themselves on the unconscious and -taciturn Brodski, as he sat thoughtfully sipping his whisky. At -length, averting his gaze with an effort, he rose suddenly from his -chair and turned to look at the clock on the mantelpiece, spreading -out his hands before the dying fire. A tumult of strange sensations -warned him to leave the house. He shivered slightly, though he was -rather hot than chilly, and, turning his head, looked at the door.</p> - -<p>“Seems to be a confounded draught,” he said, with another slight -shiver; “did I shut the door properly, I wonder?” He strode across -the room and, opening the door wide, looked out into the dark garden. -A desire, sudden and urgent, had come over him to get out into the -open air, to be on the road and have done with this madness that was -knocking at the door of his brain.</p> - -<p>“I wonder if it is worth while to start yet,” he said, with a -yearning glance at the murky, starless sky.</p> - -<p>Brodski roused himself and looked round. “Is your clock right?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>Silas reluctantly admitted that it was.</p> - -<p>“How long will it take us to walk to the station?” inquired Brodski.</p> - -<p>“Oh, about twenty-five minutes to half-an-hour,” replied Silas, -unconsciously exaggerating the distance.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Brodski, “we’ve got more than an hour yet, and it’s more -comfortable here than hanging about the station. I don’t see the use -of starting before we need.”</p> - -<p>“No; of course not,” Silas agreed. A wave of strange emotion, -half-regretful, half-triumphant, surged through his brain. For some -moments he remained standing on the threshold, looking out dreamily -into the night. Then he softly closed the door; and, seemingly -without the exercise of his volition, the key turned noiselessly in -the lock.</p> - -<p>He returned to his chair and tried to open a conversation with the -taciturn Brodski, but the words came faltering and disjointed. He -felt his face growing hot, his brain full and intense, and there was -a faint, high-pitched singing in his ears. He was conscious of -watching his guest with a new and fearful interest, and, by sheer -force of will, turned away his eyes; only to find them a moment later -involuntarily returning to fix the unconscious man with yet more -horrible intensity. And ever through his mind walked, like a dreadful -procession, the thoughts of what that other man—the man of blood and -violence—would do in these circumstances. Detail by detail the -hideous synthesis fitted together the parts of the imagined crime, -and arranged them in due sequence until they formed a succession of -events, rational, connected and coherent.</p> - -<p>He rose uneasily from his chair, with his eyes still riveted upon his -guest. He could not sit any longer opposite that man with his hidden -store of precious gems. The impulse that he recognized with fear and -wonder was growing more ungovernable from moment to moment. If he -stayed it would presently overpower him, and then—— He shrank with -horror from the dreadful thought, but his fingers itched to handle -the diamonds. For Silas was, after all, a criminal by nature and -habit. He was a beast of prey. His livelihood had never been earned; -it had been taken by stealth or, if necessary, by force. His -instincts were predacious, and the proximity of unguarded valuables -suggested to him, as a logical consequence, their abstraction or -seizure. His unwillingness to let these diamonds go away beyond his -reach was fast becoming overwhelming.</p> - -<p>But he would make one more effort to escape. He would keep out of -Brodski’s actual presence until the moment for starting came.</p> - -<p>“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I will go and put on a thicker pair -of boots. After all this dry weather we may get a change, and damp -feet are very uncomfortable when you are travelling.”</p> - -<p>“Yes; dangerous too,” agreed Brodski.</p> - -<p>Silas walked through into the adjoining kitchen, where, by the light -of the little lamp that was burning there, he had seen his stout, -country boots placed, cleaned and in readiness, and sat down upon a -chair to make the change. He did not, of course, intend to wear the -country boots, for the diamonds were concealed in those he had on. -But he would make the change and then alter his mind; it would all -help to pass the time. He took a deep breath. It was a relief, at any -rate, to be out of that room. Perhaps if he stayed away, the -temptation would pass. Brodski would go on his way—he wished that he -was going alone—and the danger would be over—at least—and the -opportunity would have gone—the diamonds——</p> - -<p>He looked up as he slowly unlaced his boot. From where he sat he -could see Brodski sitting by the table with his back towards the -kitchen door. He had finished eating, now, and was composedly rolling -a cigarette. Silas breathed heavily, and, slipping off his boot, sat -for a while motionless, gazing steadily at the other man’s back. Then -he unlaced the other boot, still staring abstractedly at his -unconscious guest, drew it off, and laid it very quietly on the floor.</p> - -<p>Brodski calmly finished rolling his cigarette, licked the paper, put -away his pouch, and, having dusted the crumbs of tobacco from his -knees, began to search his pockets for a match. Suddenly, yielding to -an uncontrollable impulse, Silas stood up and began stealthily to -creep along the passage to the sitting-room. Not a sound came from -his stockinged feet. Silently as a cat he stole forward, breathing -softly with parted lips, until he stood at the threshold of the room. -His face flushed duskily, his eyes, wide and staring, glittered in -the lamplight, and the racing blood hummed in his ears.</p> - -<p>Brodski struck a match—Silas noted that it was a wooden -vesta—lighted his cigarette, blew out the match and flung it into -the fender. Then he replaced the box in his pocket and commenced to -smoke.</p> - -<p>Slowly and without a sound Silas crept forward into the room, step by -step, with catlike stealthiness, until he stood close behind -Brodski’s chair—so close that he had to turn his head that his -breath might not stir the hair upon the other man’s head. So, for -half-a-minute, he stood motionless, like a symbolical statue of -Murder, glaring down with horrible, glittering eyes upon the -unconscious diamond merchant, while his quick breath passed without a -sound through his open mouth and his fingers writhed slowly like the -tentacles of a giant hydra. And then, as noiselessly as ever, he -backed away to the door, turned quickly and walked back into the -kitchen.</p> - -<p>He drew a deep breath. It had been a near thing. Brodski’s life had -hung upon a thread. For it had been so easy. Indeed, if he had -happened, as he stood behind the man’s chair, to have a weapon—a -hammer, for instance, or even a stone——</p> - -<p>He glanced round the kitchen and his eyes lighted on a bar that had -been left by the workmen who had put up the new greenhouse. It was an -odd piece cut off from a square, wrought-iron stanchion, and was -about a foot long and perhaps three-quarters of an inch thick. Now, -if he had had that in his hand a minute ago——</p> - -<p>He picked the bar up, balanced it in his hand and swung it round his -head. A formidable weapon this: silent, too. And it fitted the plan -that had passed through his brain. Bah! He had better put the thing -down.</p> - -<p>But he did not. He stepped over to the door and looked again at -Brodski, sitting, as before, meditatively smoking, with his back -towards the kitchen.</p> - -<p>Suddenly a change came over Silas. His face flushed, the veins of his -neck stood out and a sullen scowl settled on his face. He drew out -his watch, glanced at it earnestly and replaced it. Then he strode -swiftly but silently along the passage into the sitting-room.</p> - -<p>A pace away from his victim’s chair he halted and took deliberate -aim. The bar swung aloft, but not without some faint rustle of -movement, for Brodski looked round quickly even as the iron whistled -through the air. The movement disturbed the murderer’s aim, and the -bar glanced off his victim’s head, making only a trifling wound. -Brodski sprang up with a tremulous, bleating cry, and clutched his -assailant’s arms with the tenacity of mortal terror.</p> - -<p>Then began a terrible struggle, as the two men, locked in a deadly -embrace, swayed to and fro and trampled backwards and forwards. The -chair was overturned, an empty glass swept from the table and, with -Brodski’s spectacles, crushed beneath stamping feet. And thrice that -dreadful, pitiful, bleating cry rang out into the night, filling -Silas, despite his murderous frenzy, with terror lest some chance -wayfarer should hear it. Gathering his great strength for a final -effort, he forced his victim backwards onto the table and, snatching -up a corner of the tablecloth, thrust it into his face and crammed it -into his mouth as it opened to utter another shriek. And thus they -remained for a full two minutes, almost motionless, like some -dreadful group of tragic allegory. Then, when the last faint -twitchings had died away, Silas relaxed his grasp and let the limp -body slip softly onto the floor.</p> - -<p>It was over. For good or for evil, the thing was done. Silas stood -up, breathing heavily, and, as he wiped the sweat from his face, he -looked at the clock. The hands stood at one minute to seven. The -whole thing had taken a little over three minutes. He had nearly an -hour in which to finish his task. The goods train that entered into -his scheme came by at twenty minutes past, and it was only three -hundred yards to the line. Still, he must not waste time. He was now -quite composed, and only disturbed by the thought that Brodski’s -cries might have been heard. If no one had heard them it was all -plain sailing.</p> - -<p>He stooped, and, gently disengaging the tablecloth from the dead -man’s teeth, began a careful search of his pockets. He was not long -finding what he sought, and, as he pinched the paper packet and felt -the little hard bodies grating on one another inside, his faint -regrets for what had happened were swallowed up in -self-congratulations.</p> - -<p>He now set about his task with business-like briskness and an -attentive eye on the clock. A few large drops of blood had fallen on -the tablecloth, and there was a small bloody smear on the carpet by -the dead man’s head. Silas fetched from the kitchen some water, a -nail-brush and a dry cloth, and, having washed out the stains from -the table-cover—not forgetting the deal table-top underneath—and -cleaned away the smear from the carpet and rubbed the damp places -dry, he slipped a sheet of paper under the head of the corpse to -prevent further contamination. Then he set the table cloth straight, -stood the chair upright, laid the broken spectacles on the table and -picked up the cigarette, which had been trodden flat in the struggle, -and flung it under the grate. Then there was the broken glass, which -he swept up into a dust-pan. Part of it was the remains of the -shattered tumbler, and the rest the fragments of the broken -spectacles. He turned it out onto a sheet of paper and looked it over -carefully, picking out the larger recognizable pieces of the -spectacle-glasses and putting them aside on a separate slip of paper, -together with a sprinkling of the minute fragments. The remainder he -shot back into the dust-pan and, having hurriedly put on his boots, -carried it out to the rubbish-heap at the back of the house.</p> - -<p>It was now time to start. Hastily cutting off a length of string from -his string-box—for Silas was an orderly man and despised the -oddments of string with which many people make shift—he tied it to -the dead man’s bag and umbrella and slung them from his shoulder. -Then he folded up the paper of broken glass, and, slipping it and the -spectacles into his pocket, picked up the body and threw it over his -shoulder. Brodski was a small, spare man, weighing not more than nine -stone; not a very formidable burden for a big, athletic man like -Silas.</p> - -<p>The night was intensely dark, and, when Silas looked out of the back -gate over the waste land that stretched from his house to the -railway, he could hardly see twenty yards ahead. After listening -cautiously and hearing no sound, he went out, shut the gate softly -behind him and set forth at a good pace, though carefully, over the -broken ground. His progress was not as silent as he could have wished -for, though the scanty turf that covered the gravelly land was thick -enough to deaden his footfalls, the swinging bag and umbrella made an -irritating noise; indeed, his movements were more hampered by them -than by the weightier burden.</p> - -<p>The distance to the line was about three hundred yards. Ordinarily he -would have walked it in from three to four minutes, but now, going -cautiously with his burden and stopping now and again to listen, it -took him just six minutes to reach the three-bar fence that separated -the waste land from the railway. Arrived here he halted for a moment -and once more listened attentively, peering into the darkness on all -sides. Not a living creature was to be seen or heard in this desolate -spot, but far away, the shriek of an engine’s whistle warned him to -hasten.</p> - -<p>Lifting the corpse easily over the fence, he carried it a few yards -farther to a point where the line curved sharply. Here he laid it -face downwards, with the neck over the near rail. Drawing out his -pocket-knife, he cut through the knot that fastened the umbrella to -the string and also secured the bag; and when he had flung the bag -and umbrella on the track beside the body, he carefully pocketed the -string, excepting the little loop that had fallen to the ground when -the knot was cut.</p> - -<p>The quick snort and clanking rumble of an approaching goods train -began now to be clearly audible. Rapidly, Silas drew from his pockets -the battered spectacles and the packet of broken glass. The former he -threw down by the dead man’s head, and then, emptying the packet into -his hand, sprinkled the fragments of glass around the spectacles.</p> - -<p>He was none too soon. Already the quick, laboured puffing of the -engine sounded close at hand. His impulse was to stay and watch; to -witness the final catastrophe that should convert the murder into an -accident or suicide. But it was hardly safe: it would be better that -he should not be near lest he should not be able to get away without -being seen. Hastily he climbed back over the fence and strode away -across the rough fields, while the train came snorting and clattering -towards the curve.</p> - -<p>He had nearly reached his back gate when a sound from the line -brought him to a sudden halt; it was a prolonged whistle accompanied -by the groan of brakes and the loud clank of colliding trucks. The -snorting of the engine had ceased and was replaced by the penetrating -hiss of escaping steam.</p> - -<p>The train had stopped!</p> - -<p>For one brief moment Silas stood with bated breath and mouth agape -like one petrified; then he strode forward quickly to the gate, and, -letting himself in, silently slid the bolt. He was undeniably -alarmed. What could have happened on the line? It was practically -certain that the body had been seen; but what was happening now? and -would they come to the house? He entered the kitchen, and having -paused again to listen—for somebody might come and knock at the door -at any moment—he walked through the sitting-room and looked round. -All seemed in order there. There was the bar, though, lying where he -had dropped it in the scuffle. He picked it up and held it under the -lamp. There was no blood on it; only one or two hairs. Somewhat -absently he wiped it with the table-cover, and then, running out -through the kitchen into the back garden, dropped it over the wall -into a bed of nettles. Not that there was any thing incriminating in -the bar, but, since he had used it as a weapon, it had somehow -acquired a sinister aspect to his eye.</p> - -<p>He now felt that it would be well to start for the station at once. -It was not time yet, for it was barely twenty-five minutes past -seven; but he did not wish to be found in the house if any one should -come. His soft hat was on the sofa with his bag, to which his -umbrella was strapped. He put on the hat, caught up the bag and -stepped over to the door; then he came back to turn down the lamp. -And it was at this moment, when he stood with his hand raised to the -burner, that his eyes, travelling by chance into the dim corner of -the room, lighted on Brodski’s grey felt hat, reposing on the chair -where the dead man had placed it when he entered the house.</p> - -<p>Silas stood for a few moments as if petrified, with the chilly sweat -of mortal fear standing in beads upon his forehead. Another instant -and he would have turned the lamp down and gone on his way; and then -he strode over to the chair, snatched up the hat and looked inside -it. Yes, there was the name, “Oscar Brodski,” written plainly on the -lining. If he had gone away, leaving it to be discovered, he would -have been lost; indeed, even now, if a search-party should come to -the house, it was enough to send him to the gallows.</p> - -<p>His limbs shook with horror at the thought, but in spite of his panic -he did not lose his self-possession. Darting through into the -kitchen, he grabbed up a handful of the dry brush-wood that was kept -for lighting fires and carried it to the sitting-room grate where he -thrust it on the extinct, but still hot, embers, and crumpling up the -paper that he had placed under Brodski’s head—on which paper he now -noticed, for the first time, a minute bloody smear—he poked it in -under the wood, and striking a wax match, set light to it. As the -wood flared up, he hacked at the hat with his pocket knife and threw -the ragged strips into the blaze.</p> - -<p>And all the while his heart was thumping and his hands a-tremble with -the dread of discovery. The fragments of felt were far from -inflammable, tending rather to fuse into cindery masses that smoked -and smouldered than to burn away into actual ash. Moreover, to his -dismay, they emitted a powerful resinous stench mixed with the odour -of burning hair, so that he had to open the kitchen window (since he -dared not unlock the front door) to disperse the reek. And still, as -he fed the fire with small cut fragments, he strained his ears to -catch, above the crackling of the wood, the sound of the dreaded -footsteps, the knock on the door that should be as the summons of -Fate.</p> - -<p>The time, too, was speeding on. Twenty-one minutes to eight! In a few -minutes more he must set out or he would miss the train. He dropped -the dismembered hat-brim on the blazing wood and ran upstairs to open -a window, since he must close that in the kitchen before he left. -When he came back, the brim had already curled up into a black, -clinkery mass that bubbled and hissed as the fat, pungent smoke rose -from it sluggishly to the chimney.</p> - -<p>Nineteen minutes to eight! It was time to start. He took up the poker -and carefully beat the cinders into small particles, stirring them -into the glowing embers of the wood and coal. There was nothing -unusual in the appearance of the grate. It was his constant custom to -burn letters and other discarded articles in the sitting room fire: -his housekeeper would notice nothing out of the common. Indeed, the -cinders would probably be reduced to ashes before she returned. He -had been careful to notice that there were no metallic fittings of -any kind in the hat, which might have escaped burning.</p> - -<p>Once more he picked up his bag, took a last look round, turned down -the lamp and, unlocking the door, held it open for a few moments. -Then he went out, locked the door, pocketed the key (of which his -housekeeper had a duplicate) and set off at a brisk pace for the -station.</p> - -<p>He arrived in good time after all, and, having taken his ticket, -strolled through onto the platform. The train was not yet signalled, -but there seemed to be an unusual stir in the place. The passengers -were collected in a group at one end of the platform, and were all -looking in one direction down the line; and, even as he walked -towards them, with a certain tremulous, nauseating curiosity, two men -emerged from the darkness and ascended the slope to the platform, -carrying a stretcher covered with a tarpaulin. The passengers parted -to let the bearers pass, turning fascinated eyes upon the shape that -showed faintly through the rough pall; and, when the stretcher had -been borne into the lamp-room, they fixed their attention upon a -porter who followed carrying a handbag and an umbrella.</p> - -<p>Suddenly one of the passengers started forward with an exclamation.</p> - -<p>“Is that his umbrella?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” answered the porter, stopping and holding it out for the -speaker’s inspection.</p> - -<p>“My God!” ejaculated the passenger; then, turning sharply to a tall -man who stood close by, he said excitedly: “That’s Brodski’s -umbrella. I could swear to it. You remember Brodski?” The tall man -nodded, and the passenger, turning once more to the porter, said: “I -identify that umbrella. It belongs to a gentleman named Brodski. If -you look in his hat you will see his name written in it. He always -writes his name in his hat.”</p> - -<p>“We haven’t found his hat yet,” said the porter; “but here is the -station-master coming up the line.” He awaited the arrival of his -superior and then announced: “This gentleman, sir, has identified the -umbrella.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said the station-master, “you recognize the umbrella, sir, do -you? Then perhaps you would step into the lamp-room and see if you -can identify the body.”</p> - -<p>“Is it—is he—very much injured?” the passenger asked tremulously.</p> - -<p>“Well, yes,” was the reply. “You see, the engine and six of the -trucks went over him before they could stop the train. Took his head -clean off, in fact.”</p> - -<p>“Shocking! shocking!” gasped the passenger. “I think, if you don’t -mind—I’d—I’d rather not. You don’t think it’s necessary, doctor, do -you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I do,” replied the tall man. “Early identification may be of -the first importance.”</p> - -<p>“Then I suppose I must,” said the passenger.</p> - -<p>Very reluctantly he allowed himself to be conducted by the -station-master to the lamp-room, as the clang of the bell announced -the approaching train. Silas Hickler followed and took his stand with -the expectant crowd outside the closed door. In a few moments the -passenger burst out, pale and awe-stricken, and rushed up to his tall -friend. “It is!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “It’s Brodski! Poor old -Brodski! Horrible! horrible! He was to have met me here and come on -with me to Amsterdam.”</p> - -<p>“Had he any—merchandize about him?” the tall man asked; and Silas -strained his ears to catch the reply.</p> - -<p>“He had some stones, no doubt, but I don’t know what. His clerk will -know, of course. By the way, doctor, could you watch the case for me? -Just to be sure it was really an accident or—you know what. We were -old friends, you know, fellow townsmen, too; we were both born in -Warsaw. I’d like you to give an eye to the case.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said the other. “I will satisfy myself that—there is -nothing more than appears, and let you have a report. Will that do?”</p> - -<p>“Thank you. It’s excessively good of you, doctor. Ah! here comes the -train. I hope it won’t inconvenience you to stay and see to this -matter.”</p> - -<p>“Not in the least,” replied the doctor. “We are not due at Warmington -until tomorrow afternoon, and I expect we can find out all that is -necessary to know before that.”</p> - -<p>Silas looked long and curiously at the tall, imposing man who was, as -it were, taking his seat at the chess board, to play against him for -his life. A formidable antagonist he looked, with his keen, -thoughtful face, so resolute and calm. As Silas stepped into his -carriage he thought with deep discomfort of Brodski’s hat, and hoped -that he had made no other oversight.</p> - -<h3 class="calibre10" id="toc1_2">PART II</h3> - -<p class="calibre7">THE MECHANISM OF DETECTION</p> - -<p class="related">(Related by Christopher Jervis, M.D.)</p> - -<p><span class="firstletter">T</span><span style="font-variant: small-caps">he</span> singular circumstances that attended the death of Mr. Oscar -Brodski, the well-known diamond merchant of Hatton Garden, -illustrated very forcibly the importance of one or two points in -medico-legal practice which Thorndyke was accustomed to insist were -not sufficiently appreciated. What those points were, I shall leave -my friend and teacher to state at the proper place; and meanwhile, as -the case is in the highest degree instructive, I shall record the -incidents in the order of their occurrence.</p> - -<p>The dusk of an October evening was closing in as Thorndyke and I, the -sole occupants of a smoking compartment, found ourselves approaching -the little station of Ludham; and, as the train slowed down, we -peered out at the knot of country people who were waiting on the -platform. Suddenly Thorndyke exclaimed in a tone of surprise: “Why, -that is surely Boscovitch!” and almost at the same moment a brisk, -excitable little man darted at the door of our compartment and -literally tumbled in.</p> - -<p>“I hope I don’t intrude on this learned conclave,” he said, shaking -hands genially and banging his Gladstone with impulsive violence into -the rack; “but I saw your faces at the window, and naturally jumped -at the chance of such pleasant companionship.”</p> - -<p>“You are very flattering,” said Thorndyke; “so flattering that you -leave us nothing to say. But what in the name of fortune are you -doing at—what’s the name of the place—Ludham?”</p> - -<p>“My brother has a little place a mile or so from here, and I have -been spending a couple of days with him,” Mr. Boscovitch explained. -“I shall change at Badsham Junction and catch the boat train for -Amsterdam. But whither are you two bound? I see you have your -mysterious little green box up on the hat-rack, so I infer that you -are on some romantic quest, eh? Going to unravel some dark and -intricate crime?”</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Thorndyke. “We are bound for Warmington on a quite -prosaic errand. I am instructed to watch the proceedings at an -inquest there to-morrow on behalf of the Griffin Life Insurance -Office, and we are travelling down to-night as it is rather a -cross-country journey.”</p> - -<p>“But why the box of magic?” asked Boscovitch, glancing up at the -hat-rack.</p> - -<p>“I never go away from home without it,” answered Thorndyke. “One -never knows what may turn up; the trouble of carrying it is small -when set off against the comfort of having appliances at hand in an -emergency.”</p> - -<p>Boscovitch continued to stare up at the little square case covered -with Willesden canvas. Presently he remarked: “I often used to wonder -what you had in it when you were down at Chelmsford in connection -with that bank murder—what an amazing case that was, by the way, and -didn’t your methods of research astonish the police!” As he still -looked up wistfully at the case, Thorndyke good-naturedly lifted it -down and unlocked it. As a matter of fact he was rather proud of his -“portable laboratory,” and certainly it was a triumph of -condensation, for, small as it was—only a foot square by four inches -deep—it contained a fairly complete outfit for a preliminary -investigation.</p> - -<p>“Wonderful!” exclaimed Boscovitch, when the case lay open before him, -displaying its rows of little reagent bottles, tiny test-tubes, -diminutive spirit-lamp, dwarf microscope and assorted instruments on -the same Lilliputian scale; “it’s like a doll’s house—everything -looks as if it was seen through the wrong end of a telescope. But are -these tiny things really efficient? That microscope now——”</p> - -<p>“Perfectly efficient at low and moderate magnifications,” said -Thorndyke. “It looks like a toy, but it isn’t one; the lenses are the -best that can be had. Of course a full-sized instrument would be -infinitely more convenient—but I shouldn’t have it with me, and -should have to make shift with a pocket-lens. And so with the rest of -the under-sized appliances; they are the alternative to no -appliances.”</p> - -<p>Boscovitch pored over the case and its contents, fingering the -instruments delicately and asking questions innumerable about their -uses; indeed, his curiosity was but half appeased when, half-an-hour -later, the train began to slow down.</p> - -<p>“By Jove!” he exclaimed, starting up and seizing his bag, “here we -are at the junction already. You change here too, don’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “We take the branch train on to Warmington.”</p> - -<p>As we stepped out onto the platform, we became aware that something -unusual was happening or had happened. All the passengers and most of -the porters and supernumeraries were gathered at one end of the -station, and all were looking intently into the darkness down the -line.</p> - -<p>“Anything wrong?” asked Mr. Boscovitch, addressing the -station-inspector.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” the official replied; “a man has been run over by the -goods train about a mile down the line. The station master has gone -down with a stretcher to bring him in, and I expect that is his -lantern that you see coming this way.”</p> - -<p>As we stood watching the dancing light grow momentarily brighter, -flashing fitful reflections from the burnished rails, a man came out -of the booking-office and joined the group of onlookers. He attracted -my attention, as I afterwards remembered, for two reasons: in the -first place his round, jolly face was excessively pale and bore a -strained and wild expression, and, in the second, though he stared -into the darkness with eager curiosity he asked no questions.</p> - -<p>The swinging lantern continued to approach, and then suddenly two men -came into sight bearing a stretcher covered with a tarpaulin, through -which the shape of a human figure was dimly discernible. They -ascended the slope to the platform, and proceeded with their burden -to the lamp-room, when the inquisitive gaze of the passengers was -transferred to a porter who followed carrying a handbag and umbrella -and to the station-master who brought up the rear with his lantern.</p> - -<p>As the porter passed, Mr. Boscovitch started forward with sudden -excitement.</p> - -<p>“Is that his umbrella?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” answered the porter, stopping and holding it out for the -speaker’s inspection.</p> - -<p>“My God!” ejaculated Boscovitch; then, turning sharply to Thorndyke, -he exclaimed: “That’s Brodski’s umbrella. I could swear to it. You -remember Brodski?”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke nodded, and Boscovitch, turning once more to the porter, -said: “I identify that umbrella. It belongs to a gentleman named -Brodski. If you look in his hat, you will see his name written in it. -He always writes his name in his hat.”</p> - -<p>“We haven’t found his hat yet,” said the porter; “but here is the -station-master.” He turned to his superior and announced: “This -gentleman, sir, has identified the umbrella.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said the station-master, “you recognize the umbrella, sir, do -you? Then perhaps you would step into the lamp-room and see if you -can identify the body.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Boscovitch recoiled with a look of alarm. “Is it—is he—very -much injured?” he asked nervously.</p> - -<p>“Well, yes,” was the reply. “You see, the engine and six of the -trucks went over him before they could stop the train. Took his head -clean off, in fact.”</p> - -<p>“Shocking! shocking!” gasped Boscovitch. “I think—if you don’t -mind—I’d—I’d rather not. You don’t think it necessary, doctor, do -you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I do,” replied Thorndyke. “Early identification may be of the -first importance.”</p> - -<p>“Then I suppose I must,” said Boscovitch; and, with extreme -reluctance, he followed the station-master to the lamp-room, as the -loud ringing of the bell announced the approach of the boat train. -His inspection must have been of the briefest, for, in a few moments, -he burst out, pale and awe-stricken, and rushed up to Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“It is!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “It’s Brodski! Poor old Brodski! -Horrible! horrible! He was to have met me here and come on with me to -Amsterdam.”</p> - -<p>“Had he any—merchandize about him?” Thorndyke asked; and, as he -spoke, the stranger whom I had previously noticed edged up closer as -if to catch the reply.</p> - -<p>“He had some stones, no doubt,” answered Boscovitch, “but I don’t -know what they were. His clerk will know, of course. By the way, -doctor, could you watch the case for me? Just to be sure it was -really an accident or—you know what. We were old friends, you know, -fellow townsmen, too; we were both born in Warsaw. I’d like you to -give an eye to the case.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “I will satisfy myself that there is -nothing more than appears, and let you have a report. Will that do?”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Boscovitch. “It’s excessively good of you, doctor. -Ah, here comes the train. I hope it won’t inconvenience you to stay -and see to the matter.”</p> - -<p>“Not in the least,” replied Thorndyke. “We are not due at Warmington -until tomorrow afternoon, and I expect we can find out all that is -necessary to know and still keep our appointment.”</p> - -<p>As Thorndyke spoke, the stranger, who had kept close to us with the -evident purpose of hearing what was said, bestowed on him a very -curious and attentive look; and it was only when the train had -actually come to rest by the platform that he hurried away to find a -compartment.</p> - -<p>No sooner had the train left the station than Thorndyke sought out -the station-master and informed him of the instructions that he had -received from Boscovitch. “Of course,” he added, in conclusion, “we -must not move in the matter until the police arrive. I suppose they -have been informed?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied the station-master; “I sent a message at once to the -Chief Constable, and I expect him or an inspector at any moment. In -fact, I think I will slip out to the approach and see if he is -coming.” He evidently wished to have a word in private with the -police officer before committing himself to any statement.</p> - -<p>As the official departed, Thorndyke and I began to pace the now empty -platform, and my friend, as was his wont, when entering on a new -inquiry, meditatively reviewed the features of the problem.</p> - -<p>“In a case of this kind,” he remarked, “we have to decide on one of -three possible explanations: accident, suicide or homicide; and our -decision will be determined by inferences from three sets of facts: -first, the general facts of the case; second, the special data -obtained by examination of the body, and, third, the special data -obtained by examining the spot on which the body was found. Now the -only general facts at present in our possession are that the deceased -was a diamond merchant making a journey for a specific purpose and -probably having on his person property of small bulk and great value. -These facts are somewhat against the hypothesis of suicide and -somewhat favourable to that of homicide. Facts relevant to the -question of accident would be the existence or otherwise of a level -crossing, a road or path leading to the line, an enclosing fence with -or without a gate, and any other facts rendering probable or -otherwise the accidental presence of the deceased at the spot where -the body was found. As we do not possess these facts, it is desirable -that we extend our knowledge.”</p> - -<p>“Why not put a few discreet questions to the porter who brought in -the bag and umbrella?” I suggested. “He is at this moment in earnest -conversation with the ticket collector and would, no doubt, be glad -of a new listener.”</p> - -<p>“An excellent suggestion, Jervis,” answered Thorndyke. “Let us see -what he has to tell us.” We approached the porter and found him, as I -had anticipated, bursting to unburden himself of the tragic story.</p> - -<p>“The way the thing happened, sir, was this,” he said, in answer to -Thorndyke’s question: “There’s a sharpish bend in the road just at -that place, and the goods train was just rounding the curve when the -driver suddenly caught sight of something lying across the rails. As -the engine turned, the headlights shone on it and then he saw it was -a man. He shut off steam at once, blew his whistle, and put the -brakes down hard, but, as you know, sir, a goods train takes some -stopping; before they could bring her up, the engine and half-a-dozen -trucks had gone over the poor beggar.”</p> - -<p>“Could the driver see how the man was lying?” Thorndyke asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, he could see him quite plain, because the head lights were full -on him. He was lying on his face with his neck over the near rail on -the down side. His head was in the four-foot and his body by the side -of the track. It looked as if he had laid himself out a-purpose.”</p> - -<p>“Is there a level crossing thereabouts?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“No, sir. No crossing, no road, no path, no nothing,” said the -porter, ruthlessly sacrificing grammar to emphasis. “He must have -come across the fields and climbed over the fence to get onto the -permanent way. Deliberate suicide is what it looks like.”</p> - -<p>“How did you learn all this?” Thorndyke inquired.</p> - -<p>“Why, the driver, you see, sir, when him and his mate had lifted the -body off the track, went on to the next signal box and sent in his -report by telegram. The station-master told me all about it as we -walked down the line.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke thanked the man for his information, and, as we strolled -back towards the lamp-room, discussed the bearing of these new facts.</p> - -<p>“Our friend is unquestionably right in one respect,” he said; “this -was not an accident. The man might, if he were near-sighted, deaf or -stupid, have climbed over the fence and got knocked down by the -train. But his position, lying across the rails, can only be -explained by one of two hypotheses: either it was, as the porter -says, deliberate suicide, or else the man was already dead or -insensible. We must leave it at that until we have seen the body, -that is, if the police will allow us to see it. But here comes the -station-master and an officer with him. Let us hear what they have to -say.”</p> - -<p>The two officials had evidently made up their minds to decline any -outside assistance. The divisional surgeon would make the necessary -examination, and information could be obtained through the usual -channels. The production of Thorndyke’s card, however, somewhat -altered the situation. The police inspector hummed and hawed -irresolutely, with the card in his hand, but finally agreed to allow -us to view the body, and we entered the lamp-room together, the -station-master leading the way to turn up the gas.</p> - -<p>The stretcher stood on the floor by one wall, its grim burden still -hidden by the tarpaulin, and the hand-bag and umbrella lay on a large -box, together with the battered frame of a pair of spectacles from -which the glasses had fallen out.</p> - -<p>“Were these spectacles found by the body?” Thorndyke inquired.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied the station-master. “They were close to the head and -the glass was scattered about on the ballast.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke made a note in his pocket-book, and then, as he inspector -removed the tarpaulin, he glanced down on the corpse, lying limply on -the stretcher and looking grotesquely horrible with its displaced -head and distorted limbs. For fully a minute he remained silently -stooping over the uncanny object, on which the inspector was now -throwing the light of a large lantern; then he stood up and said -quietly to me: “I think we can eliminate two out of the three -hypotheses.”</p> - -<p>The inspector looked at him quickly, and was about to ask a question, -when his attention was diverted by the travelling-case which -Thorndyke had laid on a shelf and now opened to abstract a couple of -pairs of dissecting forceps.</p> - -<p>“We’ve no authority to make a <span class="calibre15">post mortem</span>, you know,” said the -inspector.</p> - -<p>“No, of course not,” said Thorndyke. “I am merely going to look into -the mouth.” With one pair of forceps he turned back the lip and, -having scrutinized its inner surface, closely examined the teeth.</p> - -<p>“May I trouble you for your lens, Jervis?” he said; and, as I handed -him my doublet ready opened, the inspector brought the lantern close -to the dead face and leaned forward eagerly. In his usual systematic -fashion, Thorndyke slowly passed the lens along the whole range of -sharp, uneven teeth, and then, bringing it back to the centre, -examined with more minuteness the upper incisors. At length, very -delicately, he picked out with his forceps some minute object from -between two of the upper front teeth and held it in the focus of the -lens. Anticipating his next move, I took a labelled microscope-slide -from the case and handed it to him together with a dissecting needle, -and, as he transferred the object to the slide and spread it out with -the needle, I set up the little microscope on the shelf.</p> - -<p>“A drop of Farrant and a cover-glass, please, Jervis,” said Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>I handed him the bottle, and, when he had let a drop of the mounting -fluid fall gently on the object and put on the cover-slip, he placed -the slide on the stage of the microscope and examined it attentively.</p> - -<p>Happening to glance at the inspector, I observed on his countenance a -faint grin, which he politely strove to suppress when he caught my -eye.</p> - -<p>“I was thinking, sir,” he said apologetically, “that it’s a bit off -the track to be finding out what he had for dinner. He didn’t die of -unwholesome feeding.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke looked up with a smile. “It doesn’t do, inspector, to -assume that anything is off the track in an inquiry of this kind. -Every fact must have some significance, you know.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see any significance in the diet of a man who has had his -head cut off,” the inspector rejoined defiantly.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you?” said Thorndyke. “Is there no interest attaching to the -last meal of a man who has met a violent death? These crumbs, for -instance, that are scattered over the dead man’s waistcoat. Can we -learn nothing from them?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see what you can learn,” was the dogged rejoinder.</p> - -<p>Thorndyke picked off the crumbs, one by one, with his forceps, and -having deposited them on a slide, inspected them, first with the lens -and then through the microscope.</p> - -<p>“I learn,” said he, “that shortly before his death, the deceased -partook of some kind of whole-meal biscuits, apparently composed -partly of oatmeal.”</p> - -<p>“I call that nothing,” said the inspector. “The question that we have -got to settle is not what refreshments had the deceased been taking, -but what was the cause of his death: did he commit suicide? was he -killed by accident? or was there any foul play?”</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon,” said Thorndyke, “the questions that remain to be -settled are, who killed the deceased and with what motive? The others -are already answered as far as I am concerned.”</p> - -<p>The inspector stared in sheer amazement not unmixed with incredulity.</p> - -<p>“You haven’t been long coming to a conclusion, sir,” he said.</p> - -<p>“No, it was a pretty obvious case of murder,” said Thorndyke. “As to -the motive, the deceased was a diamond merchant and is believed to -have had a quantity of stones about his person. I should suggest that -you search the body.”</p> - -<p>The inspector gave vent to an exclamation of disgust. “I see,” he -said. “It was just a guess on your part. The dead man was a diamond -merchant and had valuable property about him; therefore he was -murdered.” He drew himself up, and, regarding Thorndyke with stern -reproach, added: “But you must understand, sir, that this is a -judicial inquiry, not a prize competition in a penny paper. And, as -to searching the body, why, that is what I principally came for.” He -ostentatiously turned his back on us and proceeded systematically to -turn out the dead man’s pockets, laying the articles, as he removed -them, on the box by the side of the hand-bag and umbrella.</p> - -<p>While he was thus occupied, Thorndyke looked over the body generally, -paying special attention to the soles of the boots, which, to the -inspector’s undissembled amusement, he very thoroughly examined with -the lens.</p> - -<p>“I should have thought, sir, that his feet were large enough to be -seen with the naked eye,” was his comment; “but perhaps,” he added, -with a sly glance at the station master, “you’re a little -near-sighted.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke chuckled good-humouredly, and, while the officer continued -his search, he looked over the articles that had already been laid on -the box. The purse and pocket book he naturally left for the -inspector to open, but the reading-glasses, pocket-knife and -card-case and other small pocket articles were subjected to a -searching scrutiny. The inspector watched him out of the corner of -his eye with furtive amusement; saw him hold up the glasses to the -light to estimate their refractive power, peer into the tobacco -pouch, open the cigarette book and examine the watermark of the -paper, and even inspect the contents of the silver match-box.</p> - -<p>“What might you have expected to find in his tobacco pouch?” the -officer asked, laying down a bunch of keys from the dead man’s pocket.</p> - -<p>“Tobacco,” Thorndyke replied stolidly; “but I did not expect to find -fine-cut Latakia. I don’t remember ever having seen pure Latakia -smoked in cigarettes.”</p> - -<p>“You do take an interest in things, sir,” said the inspector, with a -side glance at the stolid station-master.</p> - -<p>“I do,” Thorndyke agreed; “and I note that there are no diamonds -among this collection.”</p> - -<p>“No, and we don’t know that he had any about him; but there’s a gold -watch and chain, a diamond scarf-pin, and a purse containing”—he -opened it and tipped out its contents into his hand—“twelve pounds -in gold. That doesn’t look much like robbery, does it? What do you -say to the murder theory now?”</p> - -<p>“My opinion is unchanged,” said Thorndyke, “and I should like to -examine the spot where the body was found. Has the engine been -inspected?” he added, addressing the station-master.</p> - -<p>“I telegraphed to Bradfield to have it examined,” the official -answered. “The report has probably come in by now. I’d better see -before we start down the line.”</p> - -<p>We emerged from the lamp-room and, at the door, found the -station-inspector waiting with a telegram. He handed it to the -station-master, who read it aloud.</p> - -<p>“The engine has been carefully examined by me. I find small smear of -blood on near leading wheel and smaller one on next wheel following. -No other marks.” He glanced questioningly at Thorndyke, who nodded -and remarked: “It will be interesting to see if the line tells the -same tale.”</p> - -<p>The station-master looked puzzled and was apparently about to ask for -an explanation; but the inspector, who had carefully pocketed the -dead man’s property, was impatient to start and, accordingly, when -Thorndyke had repacked his case and had, at his own request, been -furnished with a lantern, we set off down the permanent way, -Thorndyke carrying the light and I the indispensable green case.</p> - -<p>“I am a little in the dark about this affair,” I said, when we had -allowed the two officials to draw ahead out of ear shot; “you came to -a conclusion remarkably quickly. What was it that so immediately -determined the opinion of murder as against suicide?”</p> - -<p>“It was a small matter but very conclusive,” replied Thorndyke. “You -noticed a small scalp-wound above the left temple? It was a glancing -wound, and might easily have been made by the engine. But—the wound -had bled; and it had bled for an appreciable time. There were two -streams of blood from it, and in both the blood was firmly clotted -and partially dried. But the man had been decapitated; and this -wound, if inflicted by the engine, must have been made after the -decapitation, since it was on the side most distant from the engine -as it approached. Now, a decapitated head does not bleed. Therefore, -this wound was inflicted before the decapitation.</p> - -<p>“But not only had the wound bled: the blood had trickled down in two -streams at right angles to one another. First, in the order of time -as shown by the appearance of the stream, it had trickled down the -side of the face and dropped on the collar. The second stream ran -from the wound to the back of the head. Now, you know, Jervis, there -are no exceptions to the law of gravity. If the blood ran down the -face towards the chin, the face must have been upright at the time; -and if the blood trickled from the front to the back of the head, the -head must have been horizontal and face upwards. But the man when he -was seen by the engine driver, was lying <span class="calibre15">face downwards</span>. The only -possible inference is that when the wound was inflicted, the man was -in the upright position—standing or sitting; and that subsequently, -and while he was still alive, he lay on his back for a sufficiently -long time for the blood to have trickled to the back of his head.”</p> - -<p>“I see. I was a duffer not to have reasoned this out for myself,” I -remarked contritely.</p> - -<p>“Quick observation and rapid inference come by practice,” replied -Thorndyke. “What did you notice about the face?”</p> - -<p>“I thought there was a strong suggestion of asphyxia.”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly,” said Thorndyke. “It was the face of a suffocated man. -You must have noticed, too, that the tongue was very distinctly -swollen and that on the inside of the upper lip were deep -indentations made by the teeth, as well as one or two slight wounds, -obviously caused by heavy pressure on the mouth. And now observe how -completely these facts and inferences agree with those from the scalp -wound. If we knew that the deceased had received a blow on the head, -had struggled with his assailant and been finally borne down and -suffocated, we should look for precisely those signs which we have -found.”</p> - -<p>“By the way, what was it that you found wedged between the teeth? I -did not get a chance to look through the microscope.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said Thorndyke, “there we not only get confirmation, but we -carry our inferences a stage further. The object was a little tuft of -some textile fabric. Under the microscope I found it to consist of -several different fibres, differently dyed. The bulk of it consisted -of wool fibres dyed crimson, but there were also cotton fibres dyed -blue and a few which looked like jute, dyed yellow. It was obviously -a parti-coloured fabric and might have been part of a woman’s dress, -though the presence of the jute is much more suggestive of a curtain -or rug of inferior quality.”</p> - -<p>“And its importance?”</p> - -<p>“Is that, if it is not part of an article of clothing, then it must -have come from an article of furniture, and furniture suggests a -habitation.”</p> - -<p>“That doesn’t seem very conclusive,” I objected.</p> - -<p>“It is not; but it is valuable corroboration.”</p> - -<p>“Of what?”</p> - -<p>“Of the suggestion offered by the soles of the dead man’s boots. I -examined them most minutely and could find no trace of sand, gravel -or earth, in spite of the fact that he must have crossed fields and -rough land to reach the place where he was found. What I did find was -fine tobacco ash, a charred mark as if a cigar or cigarette had been -trodden on, Several crumbs of biscuit, and, on a projecting brad, -some coloured fibres, apparently from a carpet. The manifest -suggestion is that the man was killed in a house with a carpeted -floor, and carried from thence to the railway.”</p> - -<p>I was silent for Some moments. Well as I knew Thorndyke, I was -completely taken by surprise; a sensation, indeed, that I experienced -anew every time that I accompanied him on one of his investigations. -His marvellous power of co-ordinating apparently insignificant facts, -of arranging them into an ordered sequence and making them tell a -coherent story, was a phenomenon that I never got used to; every -exhibition of it astonished me afresh.</p> - -<p>“If your inferences are correct,” I said, “the problem is practically -solved. There must be abundant traces inside the house. The only -question is, which house is it?”</p> - -<p>“Quite so,” replied Thorndyke; “that is the question, and a very -difficult question it is. A glance at that interior would doubtless -clear up the whole mystery. But how are we to get that glance? We -cannot enter houses speculatively to see if they present traces of a -murder. At present, our clue breaks off abruptly. The other end of it -is in some unknown house, and, if we cannot join up the two ends, our -problem remains unsolved. For the question is, you remember, Who -killed Oscar Brodski?”</p> - -<p>“Then what do you propose to do?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“The next stage of the inquiry is to connect some particular house -with this crime. To that end, I can only gather up all available -facts and consider each in all its possible bearings. If I cannot -establish any such connection, then the inquiry will have failed and -we shall have to make a fresh start—say, at Amsterdam, if it turns -out that Brodski really had diamonds on his person, as I have no -doubt he had.” Here our conversation was interrupted by our arrival -at the spot where the body had been found. The station-master had -halted, and he and the inspector were now examining the near rail by -the light of their lanterns.</p> - -<p>“There’s remarkably little blood about,” said the former. “I’ve seen -a good many accidents of this kind and there has always been a lot of -blood, both on the engine and on the road. It’s very curious.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke glanced at the rail with but slight attention: that -question had ceased to interest him. But the light of his lantern -flashed onto the ground at the side of the track—a loose, gravelly -soil mixed with fragments of chalk—and from thence to the soles of -the inspector’s boots, which were displayed as he knelt by the rail.</p> - -<p>“You observe, Jervis?” he said in a low voice, and I nodded. The -inspector’s boot-soles were covered with adherent particles of gravel -and conspicuously marked by the chalk on which he had trodden.</p> - -<p>“You haven’t found the hat, I suppose?” Thorndyke asked, stooping to -pick up a short piece of string that lay on the ground at the side of -the track.</p> - -<p>“No,” replied the inspector, “but it can’t be far off. You seem to -have found another clue, sir,” he added, with a grin, glancing at the -piece of string.</p> - -<p>“Who knows,” said Thorndyke. “A short end of white twine with a green -strand in it. It may tell us something later. At any rate we’ll keep -it,” and, taking from his pocket a small tin box containing, among -other things, a number of seed envelopes, he slipped the string into -one of the latter and scribbled a note in pencil on the outside. The -inspector watched his proceedings with an indulgent smile, and then -returned to his examination of the track, in which Thorndyke now -joined.</p> - -<p>“I suppose the poor chap was near-sighted,” the officer remarked, -indicating the remains of the shattered spectacles; “that might -account for his having strayed onto the line.”</p> - -<p>“Possibly,” said Thorndyke. He had already noticed the fragments -scattered over a sleeper and the adjacent ballast, and now once more -produced his “collecting-box,” from which he took another seed -envelope. “Would you hand me a pair of forceps, Jervis,” he said; -“and perhaps you wouldn’t mind taking a pair yourself and helping me -to gather up these fragments.”</p> - -<p>As I complied, the inspector looked up curiously.</p> - -<p>“There isn’t any doubt that these spectacles belonged to the -deceased, is there?” he asked. “He certainly wore spectacles, for I -saw the mark on his nose.”</p> - -<p>“Still, there is no harm in verifying the fact,” said Thorndyke, and -he added to me in a lower tone, “Pick up every particle you can find, -Jervis. It may be most important.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t quite see how,” I said, groping amongst the shingle by the -light of the lantern in search of the tiny splinters of glass.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you?” returned Thorndyke. “Well, look at these fragments; some -of them are a fair size, but many of these on the sleeper are mere -grains. And consider their number. Obviously, the condition of the -glass does not agree with the circumstances in which we find it. -These are thick con cave spectacle-lenses broken into a great number -of minute fragments. Now how were they broken? Not merely by falling, -evidently: such a lens, when it is dropped, breaks into a small -number of large pieces. Nor were they broken by the wheel passing -over them, for they would then have been reduced to fine powder, and -that powder would have been visible on the rail, which it is not. The -spectacle frames, you may remember, presented the same incongruity: -they were battered and damaged more than they would have been by -falling, but not nearly so much as they would have been if the wheel -had passed over them.”</p> - -<p>“What do you suggest, then?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“The appearances suggest that the spectacles had been trodden on. -But, if the body was carried here the probability is that the -spectacles were carried here too, and that they were then already -broken; for it is more likely that they were trodden on during the -struggle than that the murderer trod on them after bringing them -here. Hence the importance of picking up every fragment.”</p> - -<p>“But why?” I inquired, rather foolishly, I must admit.</p> - -<p>“Because, if, when we have picked up every fragment that we can find, -there still remains missing a larger portion of the lenses than we -could reasonably expect, that would tend to support our hypothesis -and we might find the missing remainder elsewhere. If, on the other -hand, we find as much of the lenses as we could expect to find, we -must conclude that they were broken on this spot.”</p> - -<p>While we were conducting our search, the two officials were circling -around with their lanterns in quest of the missing hat; and, when we -had at length picked up the last fragment, and a careful search, even -aided by a lens, failed to reveal any other, we could see their -lanterns moving, like will-o’-the-wisps, some distance down the line.</p> - -<p>“We may as well see what we have got before our friends come back,” -said Thorndyke, glancing at the twinkling lights. “Lay the case down -on the grass by the fence; it will serve for a table.”</p> - -<p>I did so, and Thorndyke, taking a letter from his pocket, opened it, -spread it out flat on the case, securing it with a couple of heavy -stones, although the night was quite calm. Then he tipped the -contents of the seed envelope out on the paper, and carefully -spreading out the pieces of glass, looked at them for some moments in -silence. And, as he looked, there stole over his face a very curious -expression; with sudden eagerness he began picking out the large -fragments and laying them on two visiting-cards which he had taken -from his card-case. Rapidly and with wonderful deftness he fitted the -pieces together, and, as the reconstituted lenses began gradually to -take shape on their cards I looked on with growing excitement, for -something in my colleague’s manner told me that we were on the verge -of a discovery.</p> - -<p>At length the two ovals of glass lay on their respective cards, -complete save for one or two small gaps; and the little heap that -remained consisted of fragments so minute as to render further -reconstruction impossible. Then Thorndyke leaned back and laughed -softly.</p> - -<p>“This is certainly an unlooked-for result,” said he.</p> - -<p>“What is?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you see, my dear fellow? <span class="calibre15">There’s too much glass.</span> We have -almost completely built up the broken lenses, and the fragments that -are left over are considerably more than are required to fill up the -gaps.”</p> - -<p>I looked at the little heap of small fragments and saw at once that -it was as he had said. There was a surplus of small pieces.</p> - -<p>“This is very extraordinary,” I said. “What do you think can be the -explanation?”</p> - -<p>“The fragments will probably tell us,” he replied, “if we ask them -intelligently.”</p> - -<p>He lifted the paper and the two cards carefully onto the ground, and, -opening the case, took out the little microscope, to which he fitted -the lowest-power objective and eye-piece—having a combined -magnification of only ten diameters. Then he transferred the minute -fragments of glass to a slide, and, having arranged the lantern as a -microscope-lamp, commenced his examination.</p> - -<p>“Hal” he exclaimed presently. “The plot thickens. There is too much -glass and yet too little; that is to say, there are only one or two -fragments here that belong to the spectacles; not nearly enough to -complete the building up of the lenses. The remainder consists of a -soft, uneven, moulded glass, easily distinguished from the clear, -hard optical glass. These foreign fragments are all curved, as if -they had formed part of a cylinder, and are, I should say, portions -of a wine-glass or tumbler.” He moved the slide once or twice, and -then continued: “We are in luck, Jervis. Here is a fragment with two -little diverging lines etched on it, evidently the points of an -eight-rayed star—and here is another with three points—the ends of -three rays. This enables us to reconstruct the vessel perfectly. It -was a clear, thin glass—probably a tumbler—decorated with scattered -stars; I dare say you know the pattern. Sometimes there is an -ornamented band in addition, but generally the stars form the only -decoration. Have a look at the specimen.”</p> - -<p>I had just applied my eye to the microscope when the station-master -and the inspector came up. Our appearance, seated on the ground with -the microscope between us, was too much for the police officer’s -gravity, and he laughed long and joyously.</p> - -<p>“You must excuse me, gentlemen,” he said apologetically, “but really, -you know, to an old hand, like myself, it does look a -little—well—you understand—I dare say a microscope is a very -interesting and amusing thing, but it doesn’t get you much forrader -in a case like this, does it?”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps not,” replied Thorndyke. “By the way, where did you find the -hat, after all?”</p> - -<p>“We haven’t found it,” the inspector replied.</p> - -<p>“Then we must help you to continue the search,” said Thorndyke. “If -you will wait a few moments, we will come with you.” He poured a few -drops of xylol balsam on the cards to fix the reconstituted lenses to -their supports and then, packing them and the microscope in the case, -announced that he was ready to start.</p> - -<p>“Is there any village or hamlet near?” he asked the station-master.</p> - -<p>“None nearer than Corfield. That is about half-a-mile from here.”</p> - -<p>“And where is the nearest road?”</p> - -<p>“There is a half-made road that runs past a house about three hundred -yards from here. It belonged to a building estate that was never -built. There is a footpath from it to the station.”</p> - -<p>“Are there any other houses near?”</p> - -<p>“No. That is the only house for half-a-mile round, and there is no -other road near here.”</p> - -<p>“Then the probability is that Brodski approached the rail way from -that direction, as he was found on that side of the permanent way.”</p> - -<p>The inspector agreeing with this view, we all set off slowly towards -the house, piloted by the station-master and searching the ground as -we went. The waste land over which we passed was covered with patches -of docks and nettles, through each of which the inspector kicked his -way, searching with feet and lantern for the missing hat. A walk of -three hundred yards brought us to a low wall enclosing a garden, -beyond which we could see a small house; and here we halted while the -inspector waded into a large bed of nettles beside the wall and -kicked vigorously. Suddenly there came a clinking sound mingled with -objurgations, and the inspector hopped out holding one foot and -soliloquizing profanely.</p> - -<p>“I wonder what sort of a fool put a thing like that into a bed of -nettles!” he exclaimed, stroking the injured foot. Thorndyke picked -the object up and held it in the light of the lantern, displaying a -piece of three-quarter inch rolled iron bar about a foot long. “It -doesn’t seem to have been here very long,” he observed, examining it -closely, “there is hardly any rust on it.”</p> - -<p>“It has been there long enough for me,” growled the inspector, “and -I’d like to bang it on the head of the blighter that put it there.”</p> - -<p>Callously indifferent to the inspector’s sufferings, Thorndyke -continued calmly to examine the bar. At length, resting his lantern -on the wall, he produced his pocket-lens, with which he resumed his -investigation, a proceeding that so exasperated the inspector that -that afflicted official limped off in dudgeon, followed by the -station-master, and we heard him, presently, rapping at the front -door of the house.</p> - -<p>“Give me a slide, Jervis, with a drop of Farrant on it,” said -Thorndyke. “There are some fibres sticking to this bar.”</p> - -<p>I prepared the slide, and, having handed it to him together with a -cover-glass, a pair of forceps and a needle, set up the microscope on -the wall.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry for the inspector,” Thorndyke remarked, with his eye -applied to the little instrument, “but that was a lucky kick for us. -Just take a look at the specimen.”</p> - -<p>I did so, and, having moved the slide about until I had seen the -whole of the object, I gave my opinion. “Red wool fibres, blue cotton -fibres and some yellow vegetable fibres that look like jute.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Thorndyke; “the same combination of fibres as that which -we found on the dead man’s teeth and probably from the same source. -This bar has probably been wiped on that very curtain or rug with -which poor Brodski was stifled. We will place it on the wall for -future reference, and meanwhile, by hook or by crook, we must get -into that house. This is much too plain a hint to be disregarded.”</p> - -<p>Hastily repacking the case, we hurried to the front of the house, -where we found the two officials looking rather vaguely up the unmade -road.</p> - -<p>“There’s a light in the house,” said the inspector, “but there’s no -one at home. I have knocked a dozen times and got no answer. And I -don’t see what we are hanging about here for at all. The hat is -probably close to where the body was found, and we shall find it in -the morning.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke made no reply, but, entering the garden, stepped up the -path, and having knocked gently at the door, stooped and listened -attentively at the keyhole.</p> - -<p>“I tell you there’s no one in the house, sir,” said the inspector -irritably; and, as Thorndyke continued to listen, he walked away, -muttering angrily. As soon as he was gone, Thorndyke flashed his -lantern over the door, the threshold, the path and the small -flower-beds; and, from one of the latter, I presently saw him stoop -and pick something up.</p> - -<p>“Here is a highly instructive object, Jervis,” he said, coming out to -the gate, and displaying a cigarette of which only half-an-inch had -been smoked.</p> - -<p>“How instructive?” I asked. “What do you learn from it?”</p> - -<p>“Many things,” he replied. “It has been lit and thrown away unsmoked; -that indicates a sudden change of purpose. It was thrown away at the -entrance to the house, almost certainly by some one entering it. That -person was probably a stranger, or he would have taken it in with -him. But he had not expected to enter the house, or he would not have -lit it. These are the general suggestions; now as to the particular -ones. The paper of the cigarette is of the kind known as the -‘Zig-Zag’ brand; the very conspicuous watermark is quite easy to see. -Now Brodski’s cigarette book was a ‘Zig-Zag’ book—so called from the -way in which the papers pull out. But let us see what the tobacco is -like.” With a pin from his coat, he hooked out from the unburned end -a wisp of dark, dirty brown tobacco, which he held out for my -inspection.</p> - -<p>“Fine-cut Latakia,” I pronounced, without hesitation.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “Here is a cigarette made of an unusual -tobacco similar to that in Brodski’s pouch and wrapped in an unusual -paper similar to those in Brodski’s cigarette book. With due regard -to the fourth rule of the syllogism, I suggest that this cigarette -was made by Oscar Brodski. But, nevertheless, we will look for -corroborative detail.”</p> - -<p>“What is that?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“You may have noticed that Brodski’s match-box contained round wooden -vestas—which are also rather unusual. As he must have lighted the -cigarette within a few steps of the gate, we ought to be able to find -the match with which he lighted it. Let us try up the road in the -direction from which he would probably have approached.”</p> - -<p>We walked very slowly up the road, searching the ground with the -lantern, and we had hardly gone a dozen paces when I espied a match -lying on the rough path and eagerly picked it up. It was a round -wooden vesta.</p> - -<p>Thorndyke examined it with interest and having deposited it, with the -cigarette, in his “collecting-box,” turned to retrace his steps. -“There is now, Jervis, no reasonable doubt that Brodski was murdered -in that house. We have succeeded in connecting that house with the -crime, and now we have got to force an entrance and join up the other -clues.” We walked quickly back to the rear of the premises, where we -found the inspector conversing disconsolately with the station-master.</p> - -<p>“I think, sir,” said the former, “we had better go back now; in fact, -I don’t see what we came here for, but—here! I say, sir, you mustn’t -do that!” For Thorndyke, without a word of warning, had sprung up -lightly and thrown one of his long legs over the wall.</p> - -<p>“I can’t allow you to enter private premises, sir,” continued the -inspector; but Thorndyke quietly dropped down on the inside and -turned to face the officer over the wall.</p> - -<p>“Now, listen to me, inspector,” said he. “I have good reasons for -believing that the dead man, Brodski, has been in this house, in -fact, I am prepared to swear an information to that effect. But time -is precious; we must follow the scent while it is hot. And I am not -proposing to break into the house off-hand. I merely wish to examine -the dust-bin.”</p> - -<p>“The dust-bin!” gasped the inspector. “Well, you really are a most -extraordinary gentleman! What do you expect to find in the dust-bin?”</p> - -<p>“I am looking for a broken tumbler or wine-glass. It is a thin glass -vessel decorated with a pattern of small, eight pointed stars. It may -be in the dust-bin or it may be inside the house.”</p> - -<p>The inspector hesitated, but Thorndyke’s confident manner had -evidently impressed him.</p> - -<p>“We can soon see what is in the dust-bin,” he said, “though what in -creation a broken tumbler has to do with the case is more than I can -understand. However, here goes.” He sprang up onto the wall, and, as -he dropped down into the garden, the station-master and I followed.</p> - -<p>Thorndyke lingered a few moments by the gate examining the ground, -while the two officials hurried up the path. Finding nothing of -interest, however, he walked towards the house, looking keenly about -him as he went; but we were hardly half-way up the path when we heard -the voice of the inspector calling excitedly.</p> - -<p>“Here you are, sir, this way,” he sang out, and, as we hurried -forward, we suddenly came on the two officials standing over a small -rubbish-heap and looking the picture of astonishment. The glare of -their lanterns illuminated the heap, and showed us the scattered -fragments of a thin glass, star-pattern tumbler.</p> - -<p>“I can’t imagine how you guessed it was here, sir,” said the -inspector, with a new-born respect in his tone, “nor what you’re -going to do with it now you have found it.”</p> - -<p>“It is merely another link in the chain of evidence,” said Thorndyke, -taking a pair of forceps from the case and stooping over the heap. -“Perhaps we shall find something else.” He picked up several small -fragments of glass, looked at them closely and dropped them again. -Suddenly his eye caught a small splinter at the base of the heap. -Seizing it with the forceps, he held it close to his eye in the -strong lamplight, and, taking out his lens, examined it with minute -attention. “Yes,” he said at length, “this is what I was looking for. -Let me have those two cards, Jervis.”</p> - -<p>I produced the two visiting-cards with the reconstructed lenses stuck -to them, and, laying them on the lid of the case, threw the light of -the lantern on them. Thorndyke looked at them intently for some time, -and from them to the fragment that he held. Then, turning to the -inspector, he said: “You saw me pick up this splinter of glass?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” replied the officer.</p> - -<p>“And you saw where we found these spectacle-glasses and know whose -they were?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir. They are the dead man’s spectacles, and you found them -where the body had been.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said Thorndyke; “now observe;” and, as the two officials -craned forward with parted lips, he laid the little splinter in a gap -in one of the lenses and then gave it a gentle push forward, when it -occupied the gap perfectly, joining edge to edge with the adjacent -fragments and rendering that portion of the lens complete.</p> - -<p>“My God!” exclaimed the inspector. “How on earth did you know?”</p> - -<p>“I must explain that later,” said Thorndyke. “Meanwhile we had better -have a look inside the house. I expect to find there a cigarette—or -possibly a cigar—which has been trodden on, some whole-meal -biscuits, possibly a wooden vesta, and perhaps even the missing hat.”</p> - -<p>At the mention of the hat, the inspector stepped eagerly to the back -door, but, finding it bolted, he tried the window. This also was -securely fastened and, on Thorndyke’s advice, we went round to the -front door.</p> - -<p>“This door is locked too,” said the inspector. “I’m afraid we shall -have to break in. It’s a nuisance, though.”</p> - -<p>“Have a look at the window,” suggested Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>The officer did so, struggling vainly to undo the patent catch with -his pocket-knife.</p> - -<p>“It’s no go,” he said, coming back to the door. “We shall have -to——” He broke off with an astonished stare, for the door stood -open and Thorndyke was putting something in his pocket.</p> - -<p>“Your friend doesn’t waste much time—even in picking a lock,” he -remarked to me, as we followed Thorndyke into the house; but his -reflections were soon merged in a new surprise. Thorndyke had -preceded us into a small sitting-room dimly lighted by a hanging lamp -turned down low.</p> - -<p>As we entered he turned up the light and glanced about the room. A -whisky-bottle was on the table, with a siphon, a tumbler and a -biscuit-box. Pointing to the latter, Thorndyke said to the inspector: -“See what is in that box.”</p> - -<p>The inspector raised the lid and peeped in, the station master peered -over his shoulder, and then both stared at Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“How in the name of goodness did you know that there were whole-meal -biscuits in the house, sir?” exclaimed the station-master.</p> - -<p>“You’d be disappointed if I told you,” replied Thorndyke. “But look -at this.” He pointed to the hearth, where lay a flattened, -half-smoked cigarette and a round wooden vesta. The inspector gazed -at these objects in silent wonder, while, as to the station-master, -he continued to stare at Thorndyke with what I can only describe as -superstitious awe.</p> - -<p>“You have the dead man’s property with you, I believe?” said my -colleague.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied the inspector; “I put the things in my pocket for -safety.”</p> - -<p>“Then,” said Thorndyke, picking up the flattened cigarette, “let us -have a look at his tobacco-pouch.”</p> - -<p>As the officer produced and opened the pouch, Thorndyke neatly cut -open the cigarette with his sharp pocket-knife. “Now,” said he, “what -kind of tobacco is in the pouch?”</p> - -<p>The inspector took out a pinch, looked at it and smelt it -distastefully. “It’s one of those stinking tobaccos,” he said, “that -they put in mixtures—Latakia, I think.”</p> - -<p>“And what is this?” asked Thorndyke, pointing to the open cigarette.</p> - -<p>“Same stuff, undoubtedly,” replied the inspector.</p> - -<p>“And now let us see his cigarette papers,” said Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>The little book, or rather packet—for it consisted of separated -papers—was produced from the officer’s pocket and a sample paper -abstracted. Thorndyke laid the half burnt paper beside it, and the -inspector, having examined the two, held them up to the light.</p> - -<p>“There isn’t much chance of mistaking that ‘Zig-Zag’ watermark,” he -said. “This cigarette was made by the deceased; there can’t be the -shadow of a doubt.”</p> - -<p>“One more point,” said Thorndyke, laying the burnt wooden vesta on -the table. “You have his match-box?”</p> - -<p>The inspector brought forth the little silver casket, opened it and -compared the wooden vestas that it contained with the burnt end. Then -he shut the box with a snap.</p> - -<p>“You’ve proved it up to the hilt,” said he. “If we could only find -the hat, we should have a complete case.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not sure that we haven’t found the hat,” said Thorndyke. “You -notice that something besides coal has been burned in the grate.”</p> - -<p>The inspector ran eagerly to the fire-place and began with feverish -hands, to pick out the remains of the extinct fire. “The cinders are -still warm,” he said, “and they are certainly not all coal cinders. -There has been wood burned here on top of the coal, and these little -black lumps are neither coal nor wood. They may quite possibly be the -remains of a burnt hat, but, lord! who can tell? You can put together -the pieces of broken spectacle-glasses, but you can’t build up a hat -out of a few cinders.” He held out a handful of little, black, spongy -cinders and looked ruefully at Thorndyke, who took them from him and -laid them out on a sheet of paper.</p> - -<p>“We can’t reconstitute the hat, certainly,” my friend agreed, “but we -may be able to ascertain the origin of these remains. They may not be -cinders of a hat, after all.” He lit a wax match and, taking up one -of the charred fragments, applied the flame to it. The cindery mass -fused at once with a crackling, seething sound, emitting a dense -smoke, and instantly the air became charged with a pungent, resinous -odour mingled with the smell of burning animal matter.</p> - -<p>“Smells like varnish,” the station-master remarked.</p> - -<p>“Yes. Shellac,” said Thorndyke; “so the first test gives a positive -result. The next test will take more time.”</p> - -<p>He opened the green case and took from it a little flask, fitted for -Marsh’s arsenic test, with a safety funnel and escape tube, a small -folding tripod, a spirit lamp and a disc of asbestos to serve as a -sand-bath. Dropping into the flask several of the cindery masses, -selected after careful inspection, he filled it up with alcohol and -placed it on the disc, which he rested on the tripod. Then he lighted -the spirit lamp underneath and sat down to wait for the alcohol to -boil.</p> - -<p>“There is one little point that we may as well settle,” he said -presently, as the bubbles began to rise in the flask. “Give me a -slide with a drop of Farrant on it, Jervis.”</p> - -<p>I prepared the slide while Thorndyke, with a pair of forceps, picked -out a tiny wisp from the table-cloth. “I fancy we have seen this -fabric before,” he remarked, as he laid the little pinch of fluff in -the mounting fluid and slipped the slide onto the stage of the -microscope. “Yes,” he continued, looking into the eye-piece, “here -are our old acquaintances, the red wool fibres, the blue cotton and -the yellow jute. We must label this at once or we may confuse it with -the other specimens.”</p> - -<p>“Have you any idea how the deceased met his death?” the inspector -asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “I take it that the murderer enticed him -into this room and gave him some refreshments. The murderer sat in -the chair in which you are sitting, Brodski sat in that small -arm-chair. Then I imagine the murderer attacked him with that iron -bar that you found among the nettles, failed to kill him at the first -stroke, struggled with him and finally suffocated him with the -tablecloth. By the way, there is just one more point. You recognize -this piece of string?” He took from his “collecting-box” the little -end of twine that had been picked up by the line. The inspector -nodded. “Look behind you, you will see where it came from.”</p> - -<p>The officer turned sharply and his eye lighted on a string box on the -mantelpiece. He lifted it down, and Thorndyke drew out from it a -length of white twine with one green strand, which he compared with -the piece in his hand. “The green strand in it makes the -identification fairly certain,” he said. “Of course the string was -used to secure the umbrella and hand-bag. He could not have carried -them in his hand, encumbered as he was with the corpse. But I expect -our other specimen is ready now.” He lifted the flask off the tripod, -and, giving it a vigorous shake, examined the contents through his -lens. The alcohol had now become dark-brown in colour, and was -noticeably thicker and more syrupy in consistence.</p> - -<p>“I think we have enough here for a rough test,” said he, selecting a -pipette and a slide from the case. He dipped the former into the -flask and, having sucked up a few drops of the alcohol from the -bottom, held the pipette over the slide on which he allowed the -contained fluid to drop.</p> - -<p>Laying a cover-glass on the little pool of alcohol, he put the slide -on the microscope stage and examined it attentively, while we watched -him in expectant silence.</p> - -<p>At length he looked up, and, addressing the inspector, asked: “Do you -know what felt hats are made of?”</p> - -<p>“I can’t say that I do, sir,” replied the officer.</p> - -<p>“Well, the better quality hats are made of rabbits’ and hares’ -wool—the soft under-fur, you know—cemented together with shellac. -Now there is very little doubt that these cinders contain shellac, -and with the microscope I find a number of small hairs of a rabbit. I -have, therefore, little hesitation in saying that these cinders are -the remains of a hard felt hat; and, as the hairs do not appear to be -dyed, I should say it was a grey hat.”</p> - -<p>At this moment our conclave was interrupted by hurried footsteps on -the garden path and, as we turned with one accord, an elderly woman -burst into the room.</p> - -<p>She stood for a moment in mute astonishment, and then, looking from -one to the other, demanded: “Who are you? and what are you doing -here?”</p> - -<p>The inspector rose. “I am a police officer, madam,” said he. “I can’t -give you any further information just now, but, if you will excuse me -asking, who are you?”</p> - -<p>“I am Mr. Hickler’s housekeeper,” she replied.</p> - -<p>“And Mr. Hickler; are you expecting him home shortly?”</p> - -<p>“No, I am not,” was the curt reply. “Mr. Hickler is away from home -just now. He left this evening by the boat train.”</p> - -<p>“For Amsterdam?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“I believe so, though I don’t see what business it is of yours,” the -housekeeper answered.</p> - -<p>“I thought he might, perhaps, be a diamond broker or merchant,” said -Thorndyke. “A good many of them travel by that train.”</p> - -<p>“So he is,” said the woman, “at least, he has something to do with -diamonds.”</p> - -<p>“Ah. Well, we must be going, Jervis,” said Thorndyke, “we have -finished here, and we have to find an hotel or inn. Can I have a word -with you, inspector?”</p> - -<p>The officer, now entirely humble and reverent, followed us out into -the garden to receive Thorndyke’s parting advice.</p> - -<p>“You had better take possession of the house at once, and get rid of -the housekeeper. Nothing must be removed. Preserve those cinders and -see that the rubbish-heap is not disturbed, and, above all, don’t -have the room swept. An officer will be sent to relieve you.”</p> - -<p>With a friendly “good-night” we went on our way, guided by the -station-master; and here our connection with the case came to an end. -Hickler (whose Christian name turned out to be Silas) was, it is -true, arrested as he stepped ashore from the steamer, and a packet of -diamonds, subsequently identified as the property of Oscar Brodski, -found upon his person. But he was never brought to trial, for on the -return voyage he contrived to elude his guards for an instant as the -ship was approaching the English coast, and it was not until three -days later, when a hand-cuffed body was cast up on the lonely shore -by Orfordness, that the authorities knew the fate of Silas Hickler.</p> - -<p>“An appropriate and dramatic end to a singular and yet typical case,” -said Thorndyke, as he put down the newspaper. “I hope it has enlarged -your knowledge, Jervis, and enabled you to form one or two useful -corollaries.”</p> - -<p>“I prefer to hear you sing the medico-legal doxology,” I answered, -turning upon him like the proverbial worm and grinning derisively -(which the worm does not).</p> - -<p>“I know you do,” he retorted, with mock gravity, “and I lament your -lack of mental initiative. However, the points that this case -illustrates are these: First, the danger of delay; the vital -importance of instant action before that frail and fleeting thing -that we call a clue has time to evaporate. A delay of a few hours -would have left us with hardly a single datum. Second, the necessity -of pursuing the most trivial clue to an absolute finish, as -illustrated by the spectacles. Third, the urgent need of a trained -scientist to aid the police; and, last,” he concluded, with a smile, -“we learn never to go abroad without the invaluable green case.”</p> - -<hr> - -<h2 class="calibre12" id="toc2">A CASE OF PREMEDITATION</h2> - -<h3 class="calibre10" id="toc2_1">PART I</h3> - -<p class="calibre7">THE ELIMINATION OF MR. PRATT</p> - -<p><span class="firstletter">T</span><span style="font-variant: small-caps">he</span> wine merchant who should supply a consignment of <span class="calibre15">petit vin</span> to a -customer who had ordered, and paid for, a vintage wine, would render -himself subject to unambiguous comment. Nay! more; he would be liable -to certain legal penalties. And yet his conduct would be morally -indistinguishable from that of the railway company which, having -accepted a first-class fare, inflicts upon the passenger that kind of -company which he has paid to avoid. But the corporate conscience, as -Herbert Spencer was wont to explain, is an altogether inferior -product to that of the individual.</p> - -<p>Such were the reflections of Mr. Rufus Pembury when, as the train was -about to move out of Maidstone (West) station, a coarse and burly man -(clearly a denizen of the third class) was ushered into his -compartment by the guard. He had paid the higher fare, not for -cushioned seats, but for seclusion or, at least, select -companionship. The man’s entry had deprived him of both, and he -resented it.</p> - -<p>But if the presence of this stranger involved a breach of contract, -his conduct was a positive affront—an indignity; for, no sooner had -the train started than he fixed upon Mr. Pembury a gaze of -impertinent intensity, and continued thereafter to regard him with a -stare as steady and unwinking as that of a Polynesian idol.</p> - -<p>It was offensive to a degree, and highly disconcerting withal. Mr. -Pembury fidgeted in his seat with increasing discomfort and rising -temper. He looked into his pocket book, read one or two letters and -sorted a collection of visiting-cards. He even thought of opening his -umbrella. Finally, his patience exhausted and his wrath mounting to -boiling-point, he turned to the stranger with frosty remonstrance.</p> - -<p>“I imagine, sir, that you will have no difficulty in recognizing me, -should we ever meet again—which God forbid.”</p> - -<p>“I should recognize you among ten thousand,” was the reply, so -unexpected as to leave Mr. Pembury speechless.</p> - -<p>“You see,” the stranger continued impressively, “I’ve got the gift of -faces. I never forget.”</p> - -<p>“That must be a great consolation,” said Pembury.</p> - -<p>“It’s very useful to me,” said the stranger, “at least, it used to -be, when I was a warder at Portland—you remember me, I dare say: my -name is Pratt. I was assistant-warder in your time. God-forsaken -hole, Portland, and mighty glad I was when they used to send me up to -town on reckernizing duty. Holloway was the house of detention then, -you remember; that was before they moved to Brixton.”</p> - -<p>Pratt paused in his reminiscences, and Pembury, pale and gasping with -astonishment, pulled himself together.</p> - -<p>“I think,” said he, “you must be mistaking me for some one else.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t,” replied Pratt. “You’re Francis Dobbs, that’s who you are. -Slipped away from Portland one evening about twelve years ago. -Clothes washed up on the Bill next day. No trace of fugitive. As neat -a mizzle as ever I heard of. But there are a couple of photographs -and a set of finger-prints at the Habitual Criminals Register. -P’r’aps you’d like to come and see ’em?”</p> - -<p>“Why should I go to the Habitual Criminals Register?” Pembury -demanded faintly.</p> - -<p>“Ah! Exactly. Why should you? When you are a man of means, and a -little judiciously invested capital would render it unnecessary?”</p> - -<p>Pembury looked out of the window, and for a minute or more preserved -a stony silence. At length he turned suddenly to Pratt. “How much?” -he asked.</p> - -<p>“I shouldn’t think a couple of hundred a year would hurt you,” was -the calm reply.</p> - -<p>Pembury reflected awhile. “What makes you think I am a man of means?” -he asked presently.</p> - -<p>Pratt smiled grimly. “Bless you, Mr. Pembury,” said he, “I know all -about you. Why, for the last six months I have been living within -half-a-mile of your house.”</p> - -<p>“The devil you have!”</p> - -<p>“Yes. When I retired from the service, General O’Gorman engaged me as -a sort of steward or caretaker of his little place at Baysford—he’s -very seldom there himself—and the very day after I came down, I met -you and spotted you, but, naturally, I kept out of sight myself. -Thought I’d find out whether you were good for anything before I -spoke, so I’ve been keeping my ears open and I find you are good for -a couple of hundred.”</p> - -<p>There was an interval of silence, and then the ex-warder resumed—</p> - -<p>“That’s what comes of having a memory for faces. Now there’s Jack -Ellis, on the other hand; he must have had you under his nose for a -couple of years, and yet he’s never twigged—he never will either,” -added Pratt, already regretting the confidence into which his vanity -had led him.</p> - -<p>“Who is Jack Ellis?” Pembury demanded sharply.</p> - -<p>“Why, he’s a sort of supernumerary at the Baysford Police Station; -does odd jobs; rural detective, helps in the office and that sort of -thing. He was in the Civil Guard at Portland, in your time, but he -got his left forefinger chopped off, so they pensioned him, and, as -he was a Baysford man, he got this billet. But he’ll never reckernize -you, don’t you fear.”</p> - -<p>“Unless you direct his attention to me,” suggested Pembury.</p> - -<p>“There’s no fear of that,” laughed Pratt. “You can trust me to sit -quiet on my own nest-egg. Besides, we’re not very friendly. He came -nosing round our place after the parlour maid—him a married man, -mark you! But I soon boosted him out, I can tell you; and Jack Ellis -don’t like me now.”</p> - -<p>“I see,” said Pembury reflectively; then, after a pause, he asked: -“Who is this General O’Gorman? I seem to know the name.”</p> - -<p>“I expect you do,” said Pratt. “He was governor of Dartmoor when I -was there—that was my last billet—and, let me tell you, if he’d -been at Portland in your time, you’d never have got away.”</p> - -<p>“How is that?”</p> - -<p>“Why, you see, the general is a great man on bloodhounds. He kept a -pack at Dartmoor and, you bet, those lags knew it. There were no -attempted escapes in those days. They wouldn’t have had a chance.”</p> - -<p>“He has the pack still, hasn’t he?” asked Pembury.</p> - -<p>“Rather. Spends any amount of time on training ’em, too. He’s always -hoping there’ll be a burglary or a murder in the neighbourhood so as -he can try ’em, but he’s never got a chance yet. P’r’aps the crooks -have heard about ’em. But, to come back to our little arrangement: -what do you say to a couple of hundred, paid quarterly, if you like?”</p> - -<p>“I can’t settle the matter off-hand,” said Pembury. “You must give me -time to think it over.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said Pratt. “I shall be back at Baysford to-morrow -evening. That will give you a clear day to think it over. Shall I -look in at your place to-morrow night?”</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Pembury; “you’d better not be seen at my house, nor I -at yours. If I meet you at some quiet spot, where we shan’t be seen, -we can settle our business without any one knowing that we have met. -It won’t take long, and we can’t be too careful.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true,” agreed Pratt. “Well, I’ll tell you what. There’s an -avenue leading up to our house; you know it, I expect. There’s no -lodge, and the gates are always ajar, excepting at night. Now I shall -be down by the six-thirty at Baysford. Our place is a quarter of an -hour from the station. Say you meet me in the avenue at a quarter to -seven.”</p> - -<p>“That will suit me,” said Pembury; “that is, if you are sure the -bloodhounds won’t be straying about the grounds.”</p> - -<p>“Lord bless you, no!” laughed Pratt. “D’you suppose the general lets -his precious hounds stray about for any casual crook to feed with -poisoned sausage? No, they’re locked up safe in the kennels at the -back of the house. Hallo! This’ll be Swanley, I expect. I’ll change -into a smoker here and leave you time to turn the matter over in your -mind. So long. To-morrow evening in the avenue at a quarter to seven. -And, I say, Mr. Pembury, you might as well bring the first instalment -with you—fifty, in small notes or gold.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said Mr. Pembury. He spoke coldly enough, but there was -a flush on his cheeks and an angry light in his eyes, which, perhaps, -the ex-warder noticed; for when he had stepped out and shut the door, -he thrust his head in at the window and said threateningly—</p> - -<p>“One more word, Mr. Pembury-Dobbs: no hanky-panky, you know. I’m an -old hand and pretty fly, I am. So don’t you try any chickery-pokery -on me. That’s all.” He withdrew his head and disappeared, leaving -Pembury to his reflections.</p> - -<p>The nature of those reflections, if some telepathist—transferring -his attention for the moment from hidden court-yards or missing -thimbles to more practical matters—could have conveyed them into the -mind of Mr. Pratt, would have caused that quondam official some -surprise and, perhaps, a little disquiet. For long experience of the -criminal, as he appears when in durance, had produced some rather -misleading ideas as to his behaviour when at large. In fact, the -ex-warder had considerably under-estimated the ex-convict.</p> - -<p>Rufus Pembury, to give his real name—for Dobbs was literally a <span class="calibre15">nom -de guerre</span>—was a man of strong character and intelligence. So much -so that, having tried the criminal career and found it not worth -pursuing, he had definitely abandoned it. When the cattle-boat that -picked him up off Portland Bill had landed him at an American port, -he brought his entire ability and energy to bear on legitimate -commercial pursuits, and with such success that, at the end of ten -years, he was able to return to England with a moderate competence. -Then he had taken a modest house near the little town of Baysford, -where he had lived quietly on his savings for the last two years, -holding aloof without much difficulty from the rather exclusive local -society; and here he might have lived out the rest of his life in -peace but for the unlucky chance that brought the man Pratt into the -neighbourhood. With the arrival of Pratt his security was utterly -destroyed.</p> - -<p>There is something eminently unsatisfactory about a blackmailer. No -arrangement with him has any permanent validity. No undertaking that -he gives is binding. The thing which he has sold remains in his -possession to sell over again. He pockets the price of emancipation, -but retains the key of the fetters. In short, the blackmailer is a -totally impossible person.</p> - -<p>Such were the considerations that had passed through the mind of -Rufus Pembury, even while Pratt was making his proposals; and those -proposals he had never for an instant entertained. The ex-warder’s -advice to him to “turn the matter over in his mind” was unnecessary. -For his mind was already made up. His decision was arrived at in the -very moment when Pratt had disclosed his identity. The conclusion was -self-evident. Before Pratt appeared he was living in peace and -security. While Pratt remained, his liberty was precarious from -moment to moment. If Pratt should disappear, his peace and security -would return. Therefore Pratt must be eliminated.</p> - -<p>It was a logical consequence.</p> - -<p>The profound meditations, therefore, in which Pembury remained -immersed for the remainder of the journey, had nothing whatever to do -with the quarterly allowance; they were concerned exclusively with -the elimination of ex-warder Pratt.</p> - -<p>Now Rufus Pembury was not a ferocious man. He was not even cruel. But -he was gifted with a certain magnanimous cynicism which ignored the -trivialities of sentiment and regarded only the main issues. If a -wasp hummed over his tea-cup, he would crush that wasp; but not with -his bare hand. The wasp carried the means of aggression. That was the -wasp’s look-out. <span class="calibre15">His</span> concern was to avoid being stung.</p> - -<p>So it was with Pratt. The man had elected, for his own profit, to -threaten Pembury’s liberty. Very well. He had done it at his own -risk. That risk was no concern of Pembury’s. <span class="calibre15">His</span> concern was his -own safety.</p> - -<p>When Pembury alighted at Charing Cross, he directed his steps (after -having watched Pratt’s departure from the station) to Buckingham -Street, Strand, where he entered a quiet private hotel. He was -apparently expected, for the manageress greeted him by his name as -she handed him his key.</p> - -<p>“Are you staying in town, Mr. Pembury?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“No,” was the reply. “I go back tomorrow morning, but I may be coming -up again shortly. By the way, you used to have an encyclopaedia in -one of the rooms. Could I see it for a moment?”</p> - -<p>“It is in the drawing-room,” said the manageress. “Shall I show -you?—but you know the way, don’t you?”</p> - -<p>Certainly Mr. Pembury knew the way. It was on the first floor; a -pleasant old-world room looking on the quiet old street; and on a -shelf, amidst a collection of novels, stood the sedate volumes of -<span class="calibre15">Chambers’s Encyclopædia</span>.</p> - -<p>That a gentleman from the country should desire to look up the -subject of “hounds” would not, to a casual observer, have seemed -unnatural. But when from hounds the student proceeded to the article -on blood, and thence to one devoted to perfumes, the observer might -reasonably have felt some surprise; and this surprise might have been -augmented if he had followed Mr. Pembury’s subsequent proceedings, -and specially if he had considered them as the actions of a man whose -immediate aim was the removal of a superfluous unit of the population.</p> - -<p>Having deposited his bag and umbrella in his room, Pembury set forth -from the hotel as one with a definite purpose; and his footsteps led, -in the first place, to an umbrella shop on the Strand, where he -selected a thick rattan cane. There was nothing remarkable in this, -perhaps; but the cane was of an uncomely thickness and the salesman -protested. “I like a thick cane,” said Pembury.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; but for a gentleman of your height” (Pembury was a small, -slightly-built man) “I would venture to suggest——”</p> - -<p>“I like a thick cane,” repeated Pembury. “Cut it down to the proper -length and don’t rivet the ferrule on. I’ll cement it on when I get -home.”</p> - -<p>His next investment would have seemed more to the purpose, though -suggestive of unexpected crudity of method. It was a large Norwegian -knife. But not content with this he went on forthwith to a second -cutler’s and purchased a second knife, the exact duplicate of the -first. Now, for what purpose could he want two identically similar -knives? And why not have bought them both at the same shop? It was -highly mysterious.</p> - -<p>Shopping appeared to be a positive mania with Rufus Pembury. In the -course of the next half-hour he acquired a cheap handbag, an artist’s -black-japanned brush-case, a three-cornered file, a stick of elastic -glue and a pair of iron crucible-tongs. Still insatiable, he repaired -to an old-fashioned chemist’s shop in a by-street, where he further -enriched himself with a packet of absorbent cotton-wool and an ounce -of permanganate of potash; and, as the chemist wrapped up these -articles, with the occult and necromantic air peculiar to chemists, -Pembury watched him impassively.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you don’t keep musk?” he asked carelessly.</p> - -<p>The chemist paused in the act of heating a stick of sealing wax, and -appeared as if about to mutter an incantation. But he merely replied: -“No, sir. Not the solid musk; it’s so very costly. But I have the -essence.”</p> - -<p>“That isn’t as strong as the pure stuff, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“No,” replied the chemist, with a cryptic smile, “not so strong, but -strong enough. These animal perfumes are so very penetrating, you -know; and so lasting. Why, I venture to say that if you were to -sprinkle a table-spoonful of the essence in the middle of St. Paul’s, -the place would smell of it six months hence.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t say so!” said Pembury. “Well, that ought to be enough for -anybody. I’ll take a small quantity, please, and, for goodness’ sake, -see that there isn’t any on the outside of the bottle. The stuff -isn’t for myself, and I don’t want to go about smelling like a civet -cat.”</p> - -<p>“Naturally you don’t, sir,” agreed the chemist. He then produced an -ounce bottle, a small glass funnel and a stoppered bottle labelled -“Ess. Moschi,” with which he proceeded to perform a few trifling -feats of legerdemain.</p> - -<p>“There, sir,” said he, when he had finished the performance, “there -is not a drop on the outside of the bottle, and, if I fit it with a -rubber cork, you will be quite secure.”</p> - -<p>Pembury’s dislike of musk appeared to be excessive, for, when the -chemist had retired into a secret cubicle as if to hold converse with -some familiar spirit (but actually to change half-a-crown), he took -the brush-case from his bag, pulled off its lid, and then, with the -crucible-tongs, daintily lifted the bottle off the counter, slid it -softly into the brush case, and, replacing the lid, returned the case -and tongs to the bag. The other two packets he took from the counter -and dropped into his pocket, and, when the presiding wizard, having -miraculously transformed a single half-crown into four pennies, -handed him the product, he left the shop and walked thoughtfully back -towards the Strand. Suddenly a new idea seemed to strike him. He -halted, considered for a few moments and then strode away northward -to make the oddest of all his purchases.</p> - -<p>The transaction took place in a shop in the Seven Dials, whose -strange stock-in-trade ranged the whole zoological gamut, from -water-snails to Angora cats. Pembury looked at a cage of guinea-pigs -in the window and entered the shop.</p> - -<p>“Do you happen to have a dead guinea-pig?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“No; mine are all alive,” replied the man, adding, with a sinister -grin: “But they’re not immortal, you know.”</p> - -<p>Pembury looked at the man distastefully. There is an appreciable -difference between a guinea-pig and a blackmailer. “Any small mammal -would do,” he said.</p> - -<p>“There’s a dead rat in that cage, if he’s any good,” said the man. -“Died this morning, so he’s quite fresh.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll take the rat,” said Pembury; “he’ll do quite well.”</p> - -<p>The little corpse was accordingly made into a parcel and deposited in -the bag, and Pembury, having tendered a complimentary fee, made his -way back to the hotel.</p> - -<p>After a modest lunch he went forth and spent the remainder of the day -transacting the business which had originally brought him to town. He -dined at a restaurant and did not return to his hotel until ten -o’clock, when he took his key, and tucking under his arm a parcel -that he had brought in with him, retired for the night. But before -undressing—and after locking his door—he did a very strange and -unaccountable thing. Having pulled off the loose ferrule from his -newly-purchased cane, he bored a hole in the bottom of it with the -spike end of the file. Then, using the latter as a broach, he -enlarged the hole until only a narrow rim of the bottom was left. He -next rolled up a small ball of cotton-wool and pushed it into the -ferrule; and having smeared the end of the cane with elastic glue, he -replaced the ferrule, warming it over the gas to make the glue stick.</p> - -<p>When he had finished with the cane, he turned his attention to one of -the Norwegian knives. First, he carefully removed with the file most -of the bright, yellow varnish from the wooden case or handle.</p> - -<p>Then he opened the knife, and, cutting the string of the parcel that -he had brought in, took from it the dead rat which he had bought at -the zoologist’s. Laying the animal on a sheet of paper, he cut off -its head, and, holding it up by the tail, allowed the blood that -oozed from the neck to drop on the knife, spreading it over both -sides of the blade and handle with his finger.</p> - -<p>Then he laid the knife on the paper and softly opened the window. -From the darkness below came the voice of a cat, apparently -perfecting itself in the execution of chromatic Scales; and in that -direction Pembury flung the body and head of the rat, and closed the -window. Finally, having washed his hands and stuffed the paper from -the parcel into the fire-place, he went to bed.</p> - -<p>But his proceedings in the morning were equally mysterious. Having -breakfasted betimes, he returned to his bedroom and locked himself -in. Then he tied his new cane, handle downwards, to the leg of the -dressing-table. Next, with the crucible-tongs, he drew the little -bottle of musk from the brush-case, and, having assured himself, by -sniffing at it, that the exterior was really free from odour, he with -drew the rubber cork. Then, slowly and with infinite care, he poured -a few drops—perhaps half-a-teaspoonful—of the essence on the -cotton-wool that bulged through the hole in the ferrule, watching the -absorbent material narrowly as it soaked up the liquid. When it was -saturated he proceeded to treat the knife in the same fashion, -letting fall a drop of the essence on the wooden handle—which soaked -it up readily. This done, he slid up the window and looked out. -Immediately below was a tiny yard in which grew, or rather survived, -a couple of faded laurel bushes. The body of the rat was nowhere to -be seen; it had apparently been spirited away in the night. Holding -out the bottle, which he still held, he dropped it into the bushes, -flinging the rubber cork after it.</p> - -<p>His next proceeding was to take a tube of vaseline from his -dressing-bag and squeeze a small quantity onto his fingers. With this -he thoroughly smeared the shoulder of the brush case and the inside -of the lid, so as to ensure an airtight joint. Having wiped his -fingers, he picked the knife up with the crucible-tongs, and, -dropping it into the brush-case, immediately pushed on the lid. Then -he heated the tips of the tongs in the gas flame to destroy the -scent, packed the tongs and brush-case in the bag, untied the -cane—carefully avoiding contact with the ferrule—and, taking up the -two bags, went out, holding the cane by its middle.</p> - -<p>There was no difficulty in finding an empty compartment, for -first-class passengers were few at that time in the morning. Pembury -waited on the platform until the guard’s whistle sounded, when he -stepped into the compartment, shut the door and laid the cane on the -seat with its ferrule projecting out of the off-side window, in which -position it remained until the train drew up in Baysford station.</p> - -<p>Pembury left his dressing-bag at the cloak-room, and, still grasping -the cane by its middle, he sallied forth. The town of Baysford lay -some half-a-mile to the east of the station; his own house was a mile -along the road to the west; and half-way between his house and the -station was the residence of General O’Gorman. He knew the place -well. Originally a farmhouse, it stood on the edge of a great expanse -of flat meadows and communicated with the road by an avenue, nearly -three hundred yards long, of ancient trees. The avenue was shut off -from the road by a pair of iron gates, but these were merely -ornamental, for the place was unenclosed and accessible from the -surrounding meadows—indeed, an indistinct footpath crossed the -meadows and intersected the avenue about half-way up.</p> - -<p>On this occasion Pembury, whose objective was the avenue, elected to -approach it by the latter route; and at each stile or fence that he -surmounted, he paused to survey the country. Presently the avenue -arose before him, lying athwart the narrow track, and, as he entered -it between two of the trees, he halted and looked about him.</p> - -<p>He stood listening for a while. Beyond the faint rustle of leaves no -sound was to be heard. Evidently there was no one about, and, as -Pratt was at large, it was probable that the general was absent.</p> - -<p>And now Pembury began to examine the adjacent trees with more than a -casual interest. The two between which he had entered were -respectively an elm and a great pollard oak, the latter being an -immense tree whose huge, warty bole divided about seven feet from the -ground into three limbs, each as large as a fair-sized tree, of which -the largest swept outward in a great curve half-way across the -avenue. On this patriarch Pembury bestowed especial attention, -walking completely round it and finally laying down his bag and cane -(the latter resting on the bag with the ferrule off the ground) that -he might climb up, by the aid of the warty outgrowths, to examine the -crown; and he had just stepped up into the space between the three -limbs, when the creaking of the iron gates was followed by a quick -step in the avenue. Hastily he let himself down from the tree, and, -gathering up his possessions, stood close behind the great bole.</p> - -<p>“Just as well not to be seen,” was his reflection, as he hugged the -tree closely and waited, peering cautiously round the trunk. Soon a -streak of moving shadow heralded the stranger’s approach, and he -moved round to keep the trunk between himself and the intruder. On -the footsteps came, until the stranger was abreast of the tree; and -when he had passed Pembury peeped round at the retreating figure. It -was only the postman, but then the man knew him, and he was glad he -had kept out of sight.</p> - -<p>Apparently the oak did not meet his requirements, for he stepped out -and looked up and down the avenue. Then, beyond the elm, he caught -sight of an ancient pollard hornbeam—a strange, fantastic tree whose -trunk widened out trumpet-like above into a broad crown, from the -edge of which multitudinous branches uprose like the limbs of some -weird hamadryad.</p> - -<p>That tree he approved at a glance, but he lingered behind the oak -until the postman, returning with brisk step and cheerful whistle, -passed down the avenue and left him once more in solitude. Then he -moved on with a resolute air to the hornbeam.</p> - -<p>The crown of the trunk was barely six feet from the ground. He could -reach it easily, as he found on trying. Standing the cane against the -tree—ferrule downwards, this time—he took the brush-case from the -bag, pulled off the lid, and, with the crucible-tongs, lifted out the -knife and laid it on the crown of the tree, just out of sight, -leaving the tongs—also invisible—still grasping the knife. He was -about to replace the brush-case in the bag, when he appeared to alter -his mind. Sniffing at it, and finding it reeking with the sickly -perfume, he pushed the lid on again and threw the case up into the -tree, where he heard it roll down into the central hollow of the -crown. Then he closed the bag, and, taking the cane by its handle, -moved slowly away in the direction whence he had come, passing out of -the avenue between the elm and the oak.</p> - -<p>His mode of progress was certainly peculiar. He walked with excessive -slowness, trailing the cane along the ground, and every few paces he -would stop and press the ferrule firmly against the earth, so that, -to any one who should have observed him, he would have appeared to be -wrapped in an absorbing reverie.</p> - -<p>Thus he moved on across the fields, not, however, returning to the -high road, but crossing another stretch of fields until he emerged -into a narrow lane that led out into the High Street. Immediately -opposite to the lane was the police station, distinguished from the -adjacent cottages only by its lamp, its open door and the notices -pasted up outside. Straight across the road Pembury walked, still -trailing the cane, and halted at the station door to read the -notices, resting his cane on the doorstep as he did so. Through the -open doorway he could see a man writing at a desk. The man’s back was -towards him, but, presently, a movement brought his left hand into -view, and Pembury noted that the forefinger was missing. This, then, -was Jack Ellis, late of the Civil Guard at Portland.</p> - -<p>Even while he was looking the man turned his head, and Pembury -recognized him at once. He had frequently met him on the road between -Baysford and the adjoining village of Thorpe, and always at the same -time. Apparently Ellis paid a daily visit to Thorpe—perhaps to -receive a report from the rural constable—and he started between -three and four and returned between seven and a quarter past.</p> - -<p>Pembury looked at his watch. It was a quarter past three. He moved -away thoughtfully (holding his cane, now, by the middle), and began -to walk slowly in the direction of Thorpe—westward.</p> - -<p>For a while he was deeply meditative, and his face wore a puzzled -frown. Then, suddenly, his face cleared and he strode forward at a -brisker pace. Presently he passed through a gap in the hedge, and, -walking in a field parallel with the road, took out his purse—a -small pigskin pouch. Having frugally emptied it of its contents, -excepting a few shillings, he thrust the ferrule of his cane into the -small compartment ordinarily reserved for gold or notes.</p> - -<p>And thus he continued to walk on slowly, carrying the cane by the -middle and the purse jammed on the end.</p> - -<p>At length he reached a sharp double curve in the road whence he could -see back for a considerable distance; and here opposite a small -opening, he sat down to wait. The hedge screened him effectually from -the gaze of passers-by—though these were few enough—without -interfering with his view.</p> - -<p>A quarter of an hour passed. He began to be uneasy. Had he been -mistaken? Were Ellis’s visits only occasional instead of daily, as he -had thought? That would be tiresome though not actually disastrous. -But at this point in his reflections a figure came into view, -advancing along the road with a steady swing. He recognized the -figure. It was Ellis.</p> - -<p>But there was another figure advancing from the opposite direction: a -labourer, apparently. He prepared to shift his ground, but another -glance showed him that the labourer would pass first. He waited. The -labourer came on and, at length, passed the opening, and, as he did -so, Ellis disappeared for a moment in a bend of the road. Instantly -Pembury passed his cane through the opening in the hedge, shook off -the purse and pushed it into the middle of the foot way. Then he -crept forward, behind the hedge, towards the approaching official, -and again sat down to wait. On came the steady tramp of the -unconscious Ellis, and, as it passed, Pembury drew aside an -obstructing branch and peered out at the retreating figure. The -question now was, would Ellis see the purse? It was not a very -conspicuous object.</p> - -<p>The footsteps stopped abruptly. Looking out, Pembury saw the police -official stoop, pick up the purse, examine its contents and finally -stow it in his trousers pocket. Pembury heaved a sigh of relief; and, -as the dwindling figure passed out of sight round a curve in the -road, he rose, stretched himself and strode away briskly.</p> - -<p>Near the gap was a group of ricks, and, as he passed them, a fresh -idea suggested itself. Looking round quickly he passed to the farther -side of one and, thrusting his cane deeply into it, pushed it home -with a piece of stick that he picked up near the rick, until the -handle was lost among the straw. The bag was now all that was left, -and it was empty—for his other purchases were in the dressing-bag, -which, by the way, he must fetch from the station. He opened it and -smelt the interior, but, though he could detect no odour, he resolved -to be rid of it if possible.</p> - -<p>As he emerged from the gap a wagon jogged slowly past. It was piled -high with sacks, and the tail-board was down. Stepping into the road, -he quickly overtook the wagon, and, having glanced round, laid the -bag lightly on the tail-board. Then he set off for the station.</p> - -<p>On arriving home he went straight up to his bedroom, and, ringing for -his housekeeper, ordered a substantial meal. Then he took off his -clothes and deposited them, even to his shirt, socks and necktie, in -a trunk, wherein his summer clothing was stored with a plentiful -sprinkling of naphthol to preserve it from the moth. Taking the -packet of permanganate of potash from his dressing-bag, he passed -into the adjoining bathroom, and, tipping the crystals into the bath, -turned on the water. Soon the bath was filled with a pink solution of -the salt, and into this he plunged, immersing his entire body and -thoroughly soaking his hair. Then he emptied the bath and rinsed -himself in clear water, and, having dried himself, returned to the -bedroom and dressed himself in fresh clothing. Finally he took a -hearty meal, and then lay down on the sofa to rest until it should be -time to start for the rendezvous.</p> - -<p>Half-past six found him lurking in the shadow by the -station-approach, within sight of the solitary lamp. He heard the -train come in, saw the stream of passengers emerge, and noted one -figure detach itself from the throng and turn on to the Thorpe road. -It was Pratt, as the lamp light showed him; Pratt, striding forward -to the meeting-place with an air of jaunty satisfaction and an -uncommonly creaky pair of boots.</p> - -<p>Pembury followed him at a safe distance, and rather by sound than -sight, until he was well past the stile at the entrance to the -footpath. Evidently he was going on to the gates. Then Pembury -vaulted over the stile and strode away swiftly across the dark -meadows.</p> - -<p>When he plunged into the deep gloom of the avenue, his first act was -to grope his way to the hornbeam and slip his hand up onto the crown -and satisfy himself that the tongs were as he had left them. -Reassured by the touch of his fingers on the iron loops, he turned -and walked slowly down the avenue. The duplicate knife—ready -opened—was in his left inside breast-pocket, and he fingered its -handle as he walked.</p> - -<p>Presently the iron gate squeaked mournfully, and then the rhythmical -creak of a pair of boots was audible, coming up the avenue. Pembury -walked forward slowly until a darker smear emerged from the -surrounding gloom, when he called out——</p> - -<p>“Is that you, Pratt?”</p> - -<p>“That’s me,” was the cheerful, if ungrammatical response, and, as he -drew nearer, the ex-warder asked: “Have you brought the rhino, old -man?”</p> - -<p>The insolent familiarity of the man’s tone was agreeable to Pembury: -it strengthened his nerve and hardened his heart. “Of course,” he -replied; “but we must have a definite understanding, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Look here,” said Pratt, “I’ve got no time for jaw. The General will -be here presently; he’s riding over from Bingfield with a friend. You -hand over the dibs and we’ll talk some other time.”</p> - -<p>“That is all very well,” said Pembury, “but you must understand——” -He paused abruptly and stood still. They were now close to the -hornbeam, and, as he stood, he stared up into the dark mass of -foliage.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?” demanded Pratt. “What are you staring at?” He, -too, had halted and stood gazing intently into the darkness.</p> - -<p>Then, in an instant, Pembury whipped out the knife and drove it, with -all his strength, into the broad back of the ex-warder, below the -left shoulder-blade.</p> - -<p>With a hideous yell Pratt turned and grappled with his assailant. A -powerful man and a competent wrestler, too, he was far more than a -match for Pembury unarmed, and, in a moment, he had him by the -throat. But Pembury clung to him tightly, and, as they trampled to -and fro and round and round, he stabbed again and again with the -viciousness of a Scorpion, while Pratt’s cries grew more gurgling and -husky. Then they fell heavily to the ground, Pembury underneath. But -the struggle was over. With a last bubbling groan, Pratt relaxed his -hold and in a moment grew limp and inert. Pembury pushed him off and -rose, trembling and breathing heavily.</p> - -<p>But he wasted no time. There had been more noise than he had -bargained for. Quickly stepping up to the hornbeam, he reached up for -the tongs. His fingers slid into the looped handles; the tongs -grasped the knife, and he lifted it out from its hiding-place and -carried it to where the corpse lay, depositing it on the ground a few -feet from the body. Then he went back to the tree and carefully -pushed the tongs over into the hollow of the crown.</p> - -<p>At this moment a woman’s voice sounded shrilly from the top of the -avenue.</p> - -<p>“Is that you, Mr. Pratt?” it called.</p> - -<p>Pembury started and then stepped back quickly, on tiptoe, to the -body. For there was the duplicate knife. He must take that away at -all costs.</p> - -<p>The corpse was lying on its back. The knife was underneath it, driven -in to the very haft. He had to use both hands to lift the body, and -even then he had some difficulty in disengaging the weapon. And, -meanwhile, the voice, repeating its question, drew nearer.</p> - -<p>At length he succeeded in drawing out the knife and thrust it into -his breast-pocket. The corpse fell back, and he stood up gasping.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Pratt! Are you there?” The nearness of the voice startled -Pembury, and, turning sharply, he saw a light twinkling between the -trees. And then the gates creaked loudly and he heard the crunch of a -horse’s hoofs on the gravel.</p> - -<p>He stood for an instant bewildered—utterly taken by surprise. He had -not reckoned on a horse. His intended flight across the meadows -towards Thorpe was now impracticable. If he were overtaken he was -lost, for he knew there was blood on his clothes and his hands were -wet and slippery—to say nothing of the knife in his pocket.</p> - -<p>But his confusion lasted only for an instant. He remembered the oak -tree; and, turning out of the avenue, he ran to it, and, touching it -as little as he could with his bloody hands, climbed quickly up into -the crown. The great horizontal limb was nearly three feet in -diameter, and, as he lay out on it, gathering his coat closely round -him, he was quite invisible from below.</p> - -<p>He had hardly settled himself when the light which he had seen came -into full view, revealing a woman advancing with a stable lantern in -her hand. And, almost at the same moment, a streak of brighter light -burst from the opposite direction. The horseman was accompanied by a -man on a bicycle.</p> - -<p>The two men came on apace, and the horseman, sighting the woman, -called out: “Anything the matter, Mrs. Parton?” But, at that moment, -the light of the bicycle lamp fell full on the prostrate corpse. The -two men uttered a simultaneous cry of horror; the woman shrieked -aloud: and then the horseman sprang from the saddle and ran forward -to the body.</p> - -<p>“Why,” he exclaimed, stooping over it, “it’s Pratt;” and, as the -cyclist came up and the glare of his lamp shone on a great pool of -blood, he added: “There’s been foul play here, Hanford.”</p> - -<p>Hanford flashed his lamp around the body, lighting up the ground for -several yards.</p> - -<p>“What is that behind you, O’Gorman?” he said suddenly; “isn’t it a -knife?” He was moving quickly towards it when O’Gorman held up his -hand.</p> - -<p>“Don’t touch it!” he exclaimed. “We’ll put the hounds onto it. -They’ll soon track the scoundrel, whoever he is. By God! Hanford, -this fellow has fairly delivered himself into our hands.” He stood -for a few moments looking down at the knife with something uncommonly -like exultation, and then, turning quickly to his friend, said: “Look -here, Hanford; you ride off to the police station as hard as you can -pelt. It is only three-quarters of a mile; you’ll do it in five -minutes. Send or bring an officer and I’ll scour the meadows -meanwhile. If I haven’t got the scoundrel when you come back, we’ll -put the hounds onto this knife and run the beggar down.”</p> - -<p>“Right,” replied Hanford, and without another word he wheeled his -machine about, mounted and rode away into the darkness.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Parton,” said O’Gorman, “watch that knife. See that nobody -touches it while I go and examine the meadows.”</p> - -<p>“Is Mr. Pratt dead, sir?” whimpered Mrs. Parton.</p> - -<p>“Gad! I hadn’t thought of that,” said the general. “You’d better have -a look at him; but mind! nobody is to touch that knife or they will -confuse the scent.”</p> - -<p>He scrambled into the saddle and galloped away across the meadows in -the direction of Thorpe; and, as Pembury listened to the diminuendo -of the horse’s hoofs, he was glad that he had not attempted to -escape; for that was the direction in which he had meant to go, and -he would surely have been overtaken.</p> - -<p>As soon as the general was gone, Mrs. Parton, with many a -terror-stricken glance over her shoulder, approached the corpse and -held the lantern close to the dead face. Suddenly she stood up, -trembling violently, for footsteps were audible coming down the -avenue. A familiar voice reassured her.</p> - -<p>“Is anything wrong, Mrs. Parton?” The question proceeded from one of -the maids who had come in search of the elder woman, escorted by a -young man, and the pair now came out into the circle of light.</p> - -<p>“Good God!” ejaculated the man. “Who’s that?”</p> - -<p>“It’s Mr. Pratt,” replied Mrs. Parton. “He’s been murdered.”</p> - -<p>The girl screamed, and then the two domestics approached on tiptoe, -staring at the corpse with the fascination of horror.</p> - -<p>“Don’t touch that knife,” said Mrs. Parton, for the man was about to -pick it up. “The general’s going to put the bloodhounds onto it.”</p> - -<p>“Is the general here, then?” asked the man; and, as he spoke, the -drumming of hoofs, growing momentarily louder, answered him from the -meadow.</p> - -<p>O’Gorman reined in his horse as he perceived the group of servants -gathered about the corpse. “Is he dead, Mrs. Parton?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“I am afraid so, sir,” was the reply.</p> - -<p>“Ha! Somebody ought to go for the doctor; but not you, Bailey. I want -you to get the hounds ready and wait with them at the top of the -avenue until I call you.”</p> - -<p>He was off again into the Baysford meadows, and Bailey hurried away, -leaving the two women staring at the body and talking in whispers.</p> - -<p>Pembury’s position was cramped and uncomfortable. He dared not move, -hardly dared to breathe, for the women below him were not a dozen -yards away; and it was with mingled feelings of relief and -apprehension that he presently saw from his elevated station a group -of lights approaching rapidly along the road from Baysford. Presently -they were hidden by the trees, and then, after a brief interval, the -whirr of wheels sounded on the drive and streaks of light on the -tree-trunks announced the new arrivals. There were three bicycles, -ridden respectively by Mr. Hanford, a police inspector and a -sergeant; and, as they drew up, the general came thundering back into -the avenue.</p> - -<p>“Is Ellis with you?” he asked, as he pulled up.</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” was the reply. “He hadn’t come in from Thorpe when we -left. He’s rather late to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Have you sent for a doctor?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, I’ve sent for Dr. Hills,” said the inspector, resting his -bicycle against the oak. Pembury could smell the reek of the lamp as -he crouched. “Is Pratt dead?”</p> - -<p>“Seems to be,” replied O’Gorman, “but we’d better leave that to the -doctor. There’s the murderer’s knife. Nobody has touched it. I’m -going to fetch the bloodhounds now.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! that’s the thing,” said the inspector. “The man can’t be far -away.” He rubbed his hands with a satisfied air as O’Gorman cantered -away up the avenue.</p> - -<p>In less than a minute there came out from the darkness the deep -baying of a hound followed by quick footsteps on the gravel. Then -into the circle of light emerged three sinister shapes, loose-limbed -and gaunt, and two men advancing at a shambling trot.</p> - -<p>“Here, inspector,” shouted the general, “you take one; I can’t hold -‘em both.”</p> - -<p>The inspector ran forward and seized one of the leashes, and the -general led his hound up to the knife, as it lay on the ground. -Pembury, peering cautiously round the bough, watched the great brute -with almost impersonal curiosity; noted its high poll, its wrinkled -forehead and melancholy face as it stooped to snuff suspiciously at -the prostrate knife.</p> - -<p>For some moments the hound stood motionless, sniffing at the knife; -then it turned away and walked to and fro with its muzzle to the -ground. Suddenly it lifted its head, bayed loudly, lowered its muzzle -and started forward between the oak and the elm, dragging the general -after it at a run.</p> - -<p>The inspector next brought his hound to the knife, and was soon -bounding away to the tug of the leash in the general’s wake.</p> - -<p>“They don’t make no mistakes, they don’t,” said Bailey, addressing -the gratified sergeant, as he brought forward the third hound; -“you’ll see—” But his remark was cut short by a violent jerk of the -leash, and the next moment he was flying after the others, followed -by Mr. Hanford.</p> - -<p>The sergeant daintily picked the knife up by its ring, wrapped it in -his handkerchief and bestowed it in his pocket. Then he ran off after -the hounds.</p> - -<p>Pembury smiled grimly. His scheme was working out admirably in spite -of the unforeseen difficulties. If those confounded women would only -go away, he could come down and take himself off while the course was -clear. He listened to the baying of the hounds, gradually growing -fainter in the increasing distance, and cursed the dilatoriness of -the doctor. Confound the fellow! Didn’t he realize that this was a -case of life or death?</p> - -<p>Suddenly his ear caught the tinkle of a bicycle bell; a fresh light -appeared coming up the avenue and then a bicycle swept up swiftly to -the scene of the tragedy, and a small elderly man jumped down by the -side of the body. Giving his machine to Mrs. Parton, he stooped over -the dead man, felt the wrist, pushed back an eyelid, held a match to -the eye and then rose. “This is a shocking affair, Mrs. Parton,” said -he. “The poor fellow is quite dead. You had better help me to carry -him to the house. If you two take the feet I will take the shoulders.”</p> - -<p>Pembury watched them raise the body and stagger away with it up the -avenue. He heard their shuffling steps die away and the door of the -house shut. And still he listened. From far away in the meadows came, -at intervals, the baying of the hounds. Other sounds there was none. -Presently the doctor would come back for his bicycle, but, for the -moment, the coast was clear. Pembury rose stiffly. His hands had -stuck to the tree where they had pressed against it, and they were -still sticky and damp. Quickly he let himself down to the ground, -listened again for a moment, and then, making a small circuit to -avoid the lamplight, softly crossed the avenue and stole away across -the Thorpe meadows.</p> - -<p>The night was intensely dark, and not a soul was stirring in the -meadows. He strode forward quickly, peering into the darkness and -stopping now and again to listen; but no sound came to his ears, save -the now faint baying of the distant hounds. Not far from his house, -he remembered, was a deep ditch spanned by a wooden bridge, and -towards this he now made his way; for he knew that his appearance was -such as to convict him at a glance. Arrived at the ditch, he stooped -to wash his hands and wrists; and, as he bent forward, the knife fell -from his breast-pocket into the shallow water at the margin. He -groped for it, and, having found it, drove it deep into the mud as -far out as he could reach. Then he wiped his hands on some -water-weed, crossed the bridge and started homewards.</p> - -<p>He approached his house from the rear, satisfied himself that his -housekeeper was in the kitchen, and, letting himself in very quietly -with his key, went quickly up to his bedroom. Here he washed -thoroughly—in the bath, so that he could get rid of the discoloured -water—changed his clothes and packed those that he took off in a -portmanteau.</p> - -<p>By the time he had done this the gong sounded for supper. As he took -his seat at the table, spruce and fresh in appearance, quietly -cheerful in manner, he addressed his house keeper. “I wasn’t able to -finish my business in London,” he said. “I shall have to go up again -tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>“Shall you come home the same day?” asked the housekeeper.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps,” was the reply, “and perhaps not. It will depend on -circumstances.”</p> - -<p>He did not say what the circumstances might be, nor did the -housekeeper ask. Mr. Pembury was not addicted to confidences. He was -an eminently discreet man: and discreet men say little.</p> - -<h3 class="calibre10" id="toc2_2">PART II</h3> - -<p class="calibre7">RIVAL SLEUTH-HOUNDS</p> - -<p class="related">(Related by Christopher Jervis, M.D.)</p> - -<p><span class="firstletter">T</span><span style="font-variant: small-caps">he</span> half-hour that follows breakfast, when the fire has, so to speak, -got into its stride, and the morning pipe throws up its clouds of -incense, is, perhaps, the most agreeable in the whole day. Especially -so when a sombre sky, brooding over the town, hints at streets -pervaded by the chilly morning air, and hoots from protesting tugs -upon the river tell of lingering mists, the legacy of the -lately-vanished night.</p> - -<p>The autumn morning was raw: the fire burned jovially. I thrust my -slippered feet towards the blaze and meditated, on nothing in -particular, with catlike enjoyment. Presently a disapproving grunt -from Thorndyke attracted my attention, and I looked round lazily. He -was extracting, with a pair of office shears, the readable portions -of the morning paper, and had paused with a small cutting between his -finger and thumb. “Bloodhounds again,” said he. “We shall be hearing -presently of the revival of the ordeal by fire.”</p> - -<p>“And a deuced comfortable ordeal, too, on a morning like this,” I -said, stroking my legs ecstatically. “What is the case?”</p> - -<p>He was about to reply when a sharp rat-tat from the little brass -knocker announced a disturber of our peace. Thorndyke stepped over to -the door and admitted a police inspector in uniform, and I stood up, -and, presenting my dorsal aspect to the fire, prepared to combine -bodily comfort with attention to business.</p> - -<p>“I believe I am speaking to Dr. Thorndyke,” said the officer, and, as -Thorndyke nodded, he went on: “My name, sir, is Fox, Inspector Fox of -the Baysford Police. Perhaps you’ve seen the morning paper?”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke held up the cutting, and, placing a chair by the fire, -asked the inspector if he had breakfasted.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, sir, I have,” replied Inspector Fox. “I came up to town -by the late train last night so as to be here early, and stayed at an -hotel. You see, from the paper, that we have had to arrest one of our -own men. That’s rather awkward, you know, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Very,” agreed Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“Yes; it’s bad for the force and bad for the public too. But we had -to do it. There was no way out that we could see. Still, we should -like the accused to have every chance, both for our sake and his own, -so the chief constable thought he’d like to have your opinion on the -case, and he thought that, perhaps, you might be willing to act for -the defence.”</p> - -<p>“Let us have the particulars,” said Thorndyke, taking a writing-pad -from a drawer and dropping into his armchair. “Begin at the -beginning,” he added, “and tell us all you know.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said the inspector, after a preliminary cough, “to begin with -the murdered man: his name is Pratt. He was a retired prison warder, -and was employed as steward by General O’Gorman, who is a retired -prison governor—you may have heard of him in connection with his -pack of blood hounds. Well, Pratt came down from London yesterday -evening by a train arriving at Baysford at six-thirty. He was seen by -the guard, the ticket collector and the outside porter. The porter -saw him leave the station at six-thirty-seven. General O’Gorman’s -house is about half-a-mile from the station. At five minutes to seven -the general and a gentleman named Hanford and the general’s -housekeeper, a Mrs. Parton, found Pratt lying dead in the avenue that -leads up to the house. He had apparently been stabbed, for there was -a lot of blood about, and a knife—a Norwegian knife—was lying on -the ground near the body. Mrs. Parton had thought she heard some one -in the avenue calling out for help, and, as Pratt was just due, she -came out with a lantern. She met the general and Mr. Hanford, and all -three seem to have caught sight of the body at the same moment. Mr. -Hanford cycled down to us, at once, with the news; we sent for a -doctor, and I went back with Mr. Hanford and took a sergeant with me. -We arrived at twelve minutes past seven, and then the general, who -had galloped his horse over the meadows each side of the avenue -without having seen anybody, fetched out his bloodhounds and led them -up to the knife. All three hounds took up the scent at once—I held -the leash of one of them—and they took us across the meadows without -a pause or a falter, over stiles and fences, along a lane, out into -the town, and then, one after the other, they crossed the road in a -bee-line to the police station, bolted in at the door, which stood -open, and made straight for the desk, where a supernumerary officer, -named Ellis, was writing. They made a rare to-do, struggling to get -at him, and it was as much as we could manage to hold them back. As -for Ellis, he turned as pale as a ghost.”</p> - -<p>“Was any one else in the room?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. There were two constables and a messenger. We led the -hounds up to them, but the brutes wouldn’t take any notice of them. -They wanted Ellis.”</p> - -<p>“And what did you do?”</p> - -<p>“Why, we arrested Ellis, of course. Couldn’t do anything -else—especially with the general there.”</p> - -<p>“What had the general to do with it?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“He’s a J.P. and a late governor of Dartmoor, and it was his hounds -that had run the man down. But we must have arrested Ellis in any -case.”</p> - -<p>“Is there anything against the accused man?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, there is. He and Pratt were on distinctly unfriendly terms. -They were old comrades, for Ellis was in the Civil Guard at Portland -when Pratt was warder there—he was pensioned off from the service -because he got his left forefinger chopped off—but lately they had -had some unpleasantness about a woman, a parlourmaid of the -general’s. It seems that Ellis, who is a married man, paid the girl -too much attention—or Pratt thought he did—and Pratt warned Ellis -off the premises. Since then they had not been on speaking terms.”</p> - -<p>“And what sort of a man is Ellis?”</p> - -<p>“A remarkably decent fellow he always seemed; quiet, steady, -good-natured; I should have said he wouldn’t have hurt a fly. We all -liked him—better than we liked Pratt, in fact; poor Pratt was what -you’d call an old soldier—sly, you know, sir—and a bit of a sneak.”</p> - -<p>“You searched and examined Ellis, of course?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. There was nothing suspicious about him except that he had two -purses. But he says he picked up one of them—a small, pigskin -pouch—on the footpath of the Thorpe road yesterday afternoon; and -there’s no reason to disbelieve him. At any rate, the purse was not -Pratt’s.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke made a note on his pad, and then asked: “There were no -bloodstains or marks on his clothing?”</p> - -<p>“No. His clothing was not marked or disarranged in any way.”</p> - -<p>“Any cuts, scratches or bruises on his person?”</p> - -<p>“None whatever,” replied the inspector.</p> - -<p>“At what time did you arrest Ellis?”</p> - -<p>“Half-past seven exactly.”</p> - -<p>“Have you ascertained what his movements were? Had he been near the -scene of the murder?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; he had been to Thorpe and would pass the gates of the avenue on -his way back. And he was later than usual in returning, though not -later than he has often been before.”</p> - -<p>“And now, as to the murdered man: has the body been examined?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; I had Dr. Hills’s report before I left. There were no less than -seven deep knife-wounds, all on the left side of the back. There was -a great deal of blood on the ground, and Dr. Hills thinks Pratt must -have bled to death in a minute or two.”</p> - -<p>“Do the wounds correspond with the knife that was found?”</p> - -<p>“I asked the doctor that, and he said ‘Yes,’ though he wasn’t going -to swear to any particular knife. However, that point isn’t of much -importance. The knife was covered with blood, and it was found close -to the body.”</p> - -<p>“What has been done with it, by the way?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“The sergeant who was with me picked it up and rolled it in his -handkerchief to carry in his pocket. I took it from him, just as it -was, and locked it in a dispatch-box.”</p> - -<p>“Has the knife been recognized as Ellis’s property?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, it has not.”</p> - -<p>“Were there any recognizable footprints or marks of a struggle?” -Thorndyke asked.</p> - -<p>The inspector grinned sheepishly. “I haven’t examined the spot, of -course, sir,” said he, “but, after the general’s horse and the -bloodhounds and the general on foot and me and the gardener and the -sergeant and Mr. Hanford had been over it twice, going and returning, -why, you see, sir——</p> - -<p>“Exactly, exactly,” said Thorndyke. “Well, inspector, I shall be -pleased to act for the defence; it seems to me that the case against -Ellis is in some respects rather inconclusive.”</p> - -<p>The inspector was frankly amazed. “It certainly hadn’t struck me in -that light, sir,” he said.</p> - -<p>“No? Well, that is my view; and I think the best plan will be for me -to come down with you and investigate matters on the spot.”</p> - -<p>The inspector assented cheerfully, and, when we had provided him with -a newspaper, we withdrew to the laboratory to consult time-tables and -prepare for the expedition.</p> - -<p>“You are coming, I suppose, Jervis?” said Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“If I shall be of any use,” I replied.</p> - -<p>“Of course you will,” said he. “Two heads are better than one, and, -by the look of things, I should say that ours will be the only ones -with any sense in them. We will take the research case, of course, -and we may as well have a camera with us. I see there is a train from -Charing Cross in twenty minutes.”</p> - -<p>For the first half-hour of the journey Thorndyke sat in his corner, -alternately conning over his notes and gazing with thoughtful eyes -out of the window. I could see that the case pleased him, and was -careful not to break in upon his train of thought. Presently, -however, he put away his notes and began to fill his pipe with a more -companionable air, and then the inspector, who had been wriggling -with impatience, opened fire.</p> - -<p>“So you think, sir, that you see a way out for Ellis?”</p> - -<p>“I think there is a case for the defence,” replied Thorndyke. “In -fact, I call the evidence against him rather flimsy.”</p> - -<p>The inspector gasped. “But the knife, sir? What about the knife?”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Thorndyke, “what about the knife? Whose knife was it? -You don’t know. It was covered with blood. Whose blood? You don’t -know. Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that it was the -murderer’s knife. Then the blood on it was Pratt’s blood. But if it -was Pratt’s blood, when the hounds had smelt it they should have led -you to Pratt’s body, for blood gives a very strong scent. But they -did not. They ignored the body. The inference seems to be that the -blood on the knife was not Pratt’s blood.”</p> - -<p>The inspector took off his cap and gently scratched the back of his -head. “You’re perfectly right, sir,” he said. “I’d never thought of -that. None of us had.”</p> - -<p>“Then,” pursued Thorndyke, “let us assume that the knife was Pratt’s. -If so, it would seem to have been used in self-defence. But this was -a Norwegian knife, a clumsy tool—not a weapon at all—which takes an -appreciable time to open and requires the use of two free hands. Now, -had Pratt both hands free? Certainly not after the attack had -commenced. There were seven wounds, all on the left side of the back; -which indicates that he held the murderer locked in his arms and that -the murderer’s arms were around him. Also, incidentally, that the -murderer is right-handed. But, still, let us assume that the knife -was Pratt’s. Then the blood on it was that of the murderer. Then the -murderer must have been wounded. But Ellis was not wounded. Then -Ellis is not the murderer. The knife doesn’t help us at all.”</p> - -<p>The inspector puffed out his cheeks and blew softly. “This is getting -out of my depth,” he said. “Still, sir, you can’t get over the -bloodhounds. They tell us distinctly that the knife is Ellis’s knife -and I don’t see any answer to that.”</p> - -<p>“There is no answer because there has been no statement. The -bloodhounds have told you nothing. You have drawn certain inferences -from their actions, but those inferences may be totally wrong and -they are certainly not evidence.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t seem to have much opinion of bloodhounds,” the inspector -remarked.</p> - -<p>“As agents for the detection of crime,” replied Thorndyke, “I regard -them as useless. You cannot put a bloodhound in the witness-box. You -can get no intelligible statement from it. If it possesses any -knowledge, it has no means of communicating it. The fact is,” he -continued, “that the entire system of using bloodhounds for criminal -detection is based on a fallacy. In the American plantations these -animals were used with great success for tracking runaway slaves. But -the slave was a known individual. All that was required was to -ascertain his whereabouts. That is not the problem that is presented -in the detection of a crime. The detective is not concerned in -establishing the whereabouts of a known individual, but in -discovering the identity of an unknown individual. And for this -purpose bloodhounds are useless. They may discover such identity, but -they cannot communicate their knowledge. If the criminal is unknown -they cannot identify him: if he is known, the police have no need of -the bloodhound.</p> - -<p>“To return to our present case,” Thorndyke resumed, after a pause; -“we have employed certain agents—the hounds—with whom we are not -<span class="calibre15">en rapport</span>, as the spiritualists would say; and we have no -‘medium.’ The hound possesses a special sense—the olfactory—which -in man is quite rudimentary. He thinks, so to speak, in terms of -smell, and his thoughts are untranslatable to beings in whom the -sense of smell is undeveloped. We have presented to the hound a -knife, and he discovers in it certain odorous properties; he -discovers similar or related odorous properties in a tract of land -and a human individual—Ellis. We cannot verify his discoveries or -ascertain their nature. What remains? All that we can say is that -there appears to exist some odorous relation between the knife and -the man Ellis. But until we can ascertain the nature of that -relation, we cannot estimate its evidential value or bearing. All the -other ‘evidence’ is the product of your imagination and that of the -general. There is, at present, no case against Ellis.”</p> - -<p>“He must have been pretty close to the place when the murder -happened,” said the inspector.</p> - -<p>“So, probably, were many other people,” answered Thorndyke; “but had -he time to wash and change? Because he would have needed it.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose he would,” the inspector agreed dubiously.</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly. There were seven wounds which would have taken some -time to inflict. Now we can’t suppose that Pratt stood passively -while the other man stabbed him—indeed, as I have said, the position -of the wounds shows that he did not. There was a struggle. The two -men were locked together. One of the murderer’s hands was against -Pratt’s back; probably both hands were, one clasping and the other -stabbing. There must have been blood on one hand and probably on -both. But you say there was no blood on Ellis, and there doesn’t seem -to have been time or opportunity for him to wash.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s a mysterious affair,” said the inspector; “but I don’t -see how you are going to get over the bloodhounds.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke shrugged his shoulders impatiently. “The bloodhounds are an -obsession,” he said. “The whole problem really centres around the -knife. The questions are, Whose knife was it? and what was the -connection between it and Ellis? There is a problem, Jervis,” he -continued, turning to me, “that I submit for your consideration. Some -of the possible solutions are exceedingly curious.”</p> - -<p>As we set out from Baysford station, Thorndyke looked at his watch -and noted the time. “You will take us the way that Pratt went,” he -said.</p> - -<p>“As to that,” said the inspector, “he may have gone by the road or by -the footpath; but there’s very little difference in the distance.”</p> - -<p>Turning away from Baysford, we walked along the road westward, -towards the village of Thorpe, and presently passed on our right a -stile at the entrance to a footpath.</p> - -<p>“That path,” said the inspector, “crosses the avenue about half-way -up. But we’d better keep to the road.” A quarter of a mile further on -we came to a pair of rusty iron gates one of which stood open, and, -entering, we found ourselves in a broad drive bordered by two rows of -trees, between the trunks of which a long stretch of pasture meadows -could be seen on either hand. It was a fine avenue, and, late in the -year as it was, the yellowing foliage clustered thickly overhead.</p> - -<p>When we had walked about a hundred and fifty yards from the gates, -the inspector halted.</p> - -<p>“This is the place,” he said; and Thorndyke again noted the time.</p> - -<p>“Nine minutes exactly,” said he. “Then Pratt arrived here about -fourteen minutes to seven, and his body was found at five minutes to -seven—nine minutes after his arrival. The murderer couldn’t have -been far away then.”</p> - -<p>“No, it was a pretty fresh scent,” replied the inspector. “You’d like -to see the body first, I think you said, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; and the knife, if you please.”</p> - -<p>“I shall have to send down to the station for that. It’s locked up in -the office.”</p> - -<p>He entered the house, and, having dispatched a messenger to the -police station, came out and conducted us to the outbuilding where -the corpse had been deposited. Thorndyke made a rapid examination of -the wounds and the holes in the clothing, neither of which presented -anything particularly suggestive. The weapon used had evidently been -a thick-backed, single-edged knife similar to the one described, and -the discolouration around the wounds indicated that the weapon had a -definite shoulder like that of a Norwegian knife, and that it had -been driven in with savage violence.</p> - -<p>“Do you find anything that throws any light on the case?” the -inspector asked, when the examination was concluded.</p> - -<p>“That is impossible to say until we have seen the knife,” replied -Thorndyke; “but while we are waiting for it, we may as well go and -look at the scene of the tragedy. These are Pratt’s boots, I think?” -He lifted a pair of stout laced boots from the table and turned them -up to inspect the soles.</p> - -<p>“Yes, those are his boots,” replied Fox, “and pretty easy they’d have -been to track, if the case had been the other way about. Those -Blakey’s protectors are as good as a trademark.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll take them, at any rate,” said Thorndyke; and, the inspector -having taken the boots from him, we went out and retraced our steps -down the avenue.</p> - -<p>The place where the murder had occurred was easily identified by a -large dark stain on the gravel at one side of the drive, half-way -between two trees—an ancient pollard hornbeam and an elm. Next to -the elm was a pollard oak with a squat, warty bole about seven feet -high, and three enormous limbs, of which one slanted half-way across -the avenue; and between these two trees the ground was covered with -the tracks of men and hounds superimposed upon the hoof-prints of a -horse.</p> - -<p>“Where was the knife found?” Thorndyke asked.</p> - -<p>The inspector indicated a spot near the middle of the drive, almost -opposite the hornbeam and Thorndyke, picking up a large stone, laid -it on the spot. Then he surveyed the Scene thoughtfully, looking up -and down the drive and at the trees that bordered it, and, finally, -walked slowly to the space between the elm and the oak, scanning the -ground as he went. “There is no dearth of footprints,” he remarked -grimly, as he looked down at the trampled earth.</p> - -<p>“No, but the question is, whose are they?” said the inspector.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that is the question,” agreed Thorndyke; “and we will begin the -solution by identifying those of Pratt.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how that will help us,” said the inspector. “We know he -was here.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke looked at him in surprise, and I must confess that the -foolish remark astonished me too, accustomed as I was to the -quick-witted officers from Scotland Yard.</p> - -<p>“The hue and cry procession,” remarked Thorndyke, “seems to have -passed out between the elm and the oak; elsewhere the ground seems -pretty clear.” He walked round the elm, still looking earnestly at -the ground, and presently continued: “Now here, in the soft earth -bordering the turf, are the prints of a pair of smallish feet wearing -pointed boots; a rather short man, evidently, by the size of foot and -length of stride, and he doesn’t seem to have belonged to the -procession. But I don’t see any of Pratt’s; he doesn’t seem to have -come off the hard gravel.” He continued to walk slowly towards the -hornbeam with his eyes fixed on the ground. Suddenly he halted and -stooped with an eager look at the earth; and, as Fox and I -approached, he stood up and pointed. “Pratt’s footprints—faint and -fragmentary, but unmistakable. And now, inspector, you see their -importance. They furnish the time factor in respect of the other foot -prints. Look at this one and then look at that.” He pointed from one -to another of the faint impressions of the dead man’s foot.</p> - -<p>“You mean that there are signs of a struggle?” said Fox.</p> - -<p>“I mean more than that,” replied Thorndyke. “Here is one of Pratt’s -footprints treading into the print of a small, pointed foot; and -there at the edge of the gravel is another of Pratt’s nearly -obliterated by the tread of a pointed foot. Obviously the first -pointed footprint was made before Pratt’s, and the second one after -his; and the necessary inference is that the owner of the pointed -foot was here at the same time as Pratt.”</p> - -<p>“Then he must have been the murderer!” exclaimed Fox.</p> - -<p>“Presumably,” answered Thorndyke; “but let us see whither he went. -You notice, in the first place, that the man stood close to this -tree”—he indicated the hornbeam—“and that he went towards the elm. -Let us follow him. He passes the elm, you see, and you will observe -that these tracks form a regular series leading from the hornbeam and -not mixed up with the marks of the struggle. They were, therefore, -probably made after the murder had been perpetrated. You will also -notice that they pass along the backs of the trees—outside the -avenue, that is; what does that suggest to you?”</p> - -<p>“It suggests to me,” I said, when the inspector had shaken his head -hopelessly, “that there was possibly some one in the avenue when the -man was stealing off.”</p> - -<p>“Precisely,” said Thorndyke. “The body was found not more than nine -minutes after Pratt arrived here. But the murder must have taken some -time. Then the housekeeper thought she heard some one calling and -came out with a lantern, and, at the same time, the general and Mr. -Hanford came up the drive. The suggestion is that the man sneaked -along outside the trees to avoid being seen. However, let us follow -the tracks. They pass the elm and they pass on behind the next tree; -but wait! There is something odd here.” He passed behind the great -pollard oak and looked down at the soft earth by its roots. “Here is -a pair of impressions much deeper than the rest, and they are not a -part of the track since their toes point towards the tree. What do -you make of that?” Without waiting for an answer he began closely to -scan the bole of the tree and especially a large, warty protuberance -about three feet from the ground. On the bark above this was a -vertical mark, as if something had scraped down the tree, and from -the wart itself a dead twig had been newly broken off and lay upon -the ground. Pointing to these marks Thorndyke set his foot on the -protuberance, and, springing up, brought his eye above the level of -the crown, whence the great boughs branched off.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” he exclaimed. “Here is something much more definite.” With the -aid of another projection, he scrambled up into the crown of the -tree, and, having glanced quickly round, beckoned to us. I stepped up -on the projecting lump and, as my eyes rose above the crown, I -perceived the brown, shiny impression of a hand on the edge. Climbing -into the crown, I was quickly followed by the inspector, and we both -stood up by Thorndyke between the three boughs. From where we stood -we looked on the upper side of the great limb that swept out across -the avenue; and there on its lichen-covered surface, we saw the -imprints in reddish-brown of a pair of open hands.</p> - -<p>“You notice,” said Thorndyke, leaning out upon the bough, “that he is -a short man; I cannot conveniently place my hands so low. You also -note that he has both forefingers intact, and so is certainly not -Ellis.”</p> - -<p>“If you mean to say, sir, that these marks were made by the -murderer,” said Fox, “I say it’s impossible. Why, that would mean -that he was here looking down at us when we were searching for him -with the hounds. The presence of the hounds proves that this man -could not have been the murderer.”</p> - -<p>“On the contrary,” said Thorndyke, “the presence of this man with -bloody hands confirms the other evidence, which all indicates that -the hounds were never on the murderer’s trail at all. Come now, -inspector, I put it to you: Here is a murdered man; the murderer has -almost certainly blood upon his hands; and here is a man with bloody -hands, lurking in a tree within a few feet of the corpse and within a -few minutes of its discovery (as is shown by the footprints); what -are the reasonable probabilities?”</p> - -<p>“But you are forgetting the bloodhounds, sir, and the murderer’s -knife,” urged the inspector.</p> - -<p>“Tut, tut, man!” exclaimed Thorndyke; “those blood hounds are a -positive obsession. But I see a sergeant coming up the drive, with -the knife, I hope. Perhaps that will solve the riddle for us.”</p> - -<p>The sergeant, who carried a small dispatch-box, halted opposite the -tree in some surprise while we descended, when he came forward with a -military salute and handed the box to the inspector, who forthwith -unlocked it, and, opening the lid, displayed an object wrapped in a -pocket-handkerchief.</p> - -<p>“There is the knife, sir,” said he, “just as I received it. The -handkerchief is the sergeant’s.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke unrolled the handkerchief and took from it a large-sized -Norwegian knife, which he looked at critically and then handed to me. -While I was inspecting the blade, he, shook out the handkerchief and, -having looked it over on both sides, turned to the sergeant.</p> - -<p>“At what time did you pick up this knife?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“About seven-fifteen, sir; directly after the hounds had started. I -was careful to pick it up by the ring, and I wrapped it in the -handkerchief at once.”</p> - -<p>“Seven-fifteen,” said Thorndyke. “Less than half-an-hour after the -murder. That is very singular. Do you observe the state of this -handkerchief? There is not a mark on it. Not a trace of any -bloodstain; which proves that when the knife was picked up, the blood -on it was already dry. But things dry slowly, if they dry at all, in -the saturated air of an autumn evening. The appearances seem to -suggest that the blood on the knife was dry when it was thrown down. -By the way, sergeant, what do you scent your handkerchief with?’”</p> - -<p>“Scent, sir!” exclaimed the astonished officer in indignant accents; -“me scent my handkerchief! No, sir, certainly not. Never used scent -in my life, sir.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke held out the handkerchief, and the sergeant Sniffed at it -incredulously. “It certainly does seem to smell of scent,” he -admitted, “but it must be the knife.” The same idea having occurred -to me, I applied the handle of the knife to my nose and instantly -detected the sickly-sweet odour of musk.</p> - -<p>“The question is,” said the inspector, when the two articles had been -tested by us all, “was it the knife that scented the handkerchief or -the handkerchief that scented the knife?”</p> - -<p>“You heard what the sergeant said,” replied Thorndyke. “There was no -scent on the handkerchief when the knife was wrapped in it. Do you -know, inspector, this scent seems to me to offer a very curious -suggestion. Consider the facts of the case: the distinct trail -leading straight to Ellis, who is, nevertheless, found to be without -a scratch or a spot of blood; the inconsistencies in the case that I -pointed out in the train, and now this knife, apparently dropped with -dried blood on it and scented with musk. To me it suggests a -carefully-planned, coolly-premeditated crime. The murderer knew about -the general’s bloodhounds and made use of them as a blind. He planted -this knife, smeared with blood and tainted with musk, to furnish a -scent. No doubt some object, also scented with musk, would be drawn -over the ground to give the trail. It is only a suggestion, of -course, but it is worth considering.”</p> - -<p>“But, sir,” the inspector objected eagerly, “if the murderer had -handled the knife, it would have scented him too.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly; so, as we are assuming that the man is not a fool, we may -assume that he did not handle it. He will have left it here in -readiness, hidden in some place whence he could knock it down, say, -with a stick, without touching it.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps in this very tree, sir,” suggested the sergeant, pointing to -the oak.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Thorndyke, “he would hardly have hidden in the tree where -the knife had been. The hounds might have scented the place instead -of following the trail at once. The most likely hiding-place for the -knife is the one nearest the spot where it was found.” He walked over -to the stone that marked the spot, and looking round, continued: “You -see, that hornbeam is much the nearest, and its flat crown would be -very convenient for the purpose—easily reached even by a short man, -as he appears to be. Let us see if there are any traces of it. -Perhaps you will give me a ‘back up,’ sergeant, as we haven’t a -ladder.”</p> - -<p>The sergeant assented with a faint grin, and stooping beside the tree -in an attitude suggesting the game of leap frog, placed his hands -firmly on his knees. Grasping a stout branch, Thorndyke swung himself -up on the Sergeant’s broad back, whence he looked down into the crown -of the tree. Then, parting the branches, he stepped onto the ledge -and disappeared into the central hollow.</p> - -<p>When he reappeared he held in his hands two very singular objects: a -pair of iron crucible-tongs and an artist’s brush-case of -black-japanned tin. The former article he handed down to me, but the -brush-case he held carefully by its wire handle as he dropped to the -ground.</p> - -<p>“The significance of these things is, I think, obvious,” he said. -“The tongs were used to handle the knife with and the case to carry -it in, so that it should not scent his clothes or bag. It was very -carefully planned.”</p> - -<p>“If that is so,” said the inspector, “the inside of the case ought to -smell of musk.”</p> - -<p>“No doubt,” said Thorndyke; “but before we open it, there is a rather -important matter to be attended to. Will you give me the Vitogen -powder, Jervis?”</p> - -<p>I opened the canvas-covered “research case” and took from it an -object like a diminutive pepper-caster—an iodoform dredger in -fact—and handed it to him. Grasping the brush-case by its wire -handle, he sprinkled the pale yellow powder from the dredger freely -all round the pulloff lid, tapping the top with his knuckles to make -the fine particles spread. Then he blew off the superfluous powder, -and the two police officers gave a simultaneous gasp of joy; for now, -on the black background, there stood out plainly a number of -finger-prints, so clear and distinct that the ridge-pattern could be -made out with perfect ease.</p> - -<p>“These will probably be his right hand,” said Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“Now for the left.” He treated the body of the case in the same way, -and, when he had blown off the powder, the entire surface was spotted -with yellow, oval impressions. “Now, Jervis,” said he, “if you will -put on a glove and pull off the lid, we can test the inside.”</p> - -<p>There was no difficulty in getting the lid off, for the shoulder of -the case had been smeared with vaseline—apparently to produce an -airtight joint—and, as it separated with a hollow sound, a faint, -musky odour exhaled from its interior.</p> - -<p>“The remainder of the inquiry,” said Thorndyke, when I pushed the lid -on again, “will be best conducted at the police station, where, also, -we can photograph these finger prints.”</p> - -<p>“The shortest way will be across the meadows,” said Fox; “the way the -hounds went.”</p> - -<p>By this route we accordingly travelled, Thorndyke carrying the -brush-case tenderly by its handle.</p> - -<p>“I don’t quite see where Ellis comes in in this job,” said the -inspector, as we walked along, “if the fellow had a grudge against -Pratt. They weren’t chums.”</p> - -<p>“I think I do,” said Thorndyke. “You say that both men were prison -officers at Portland at the same time. Now doesn’t it seem likely -that this is the work of some old convict who had been -identified—and perhaps blackmailed—by Pratt, and possibly by Ellis -too? That is where the value of the finger-prints comes in. If he is -an old ‘lag’ his prints will be at Scotland Yard. Otherwise they are -not of much value as a clue.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true, sir,” said the inspector. “I suppose you want to see -Ellis.”</p> - -<p>“I want to see that purse that you spoke of, first,” replied -Thorndyke. “That is probably the other end of the clue.”</p> - -<p>As soon as we arrived at the station, the inspector unlocked a safe -and brought out a parcel. “These are Ellis’s things,” said he, as he -unfastened it, “and that is the purse.”</p> - -<p>He handed Thorndyke a small pigskin pouch, which my colleague opened, -and having smelt the inside, passed to me. The odour of musk was -plainly perceptible, especially in the small compartment at the back.</p> - -<p>“It has probably tainted the other contents of the parcel,” said -Thorndyke, sniffing at each article in turn, “but my sense of smell -is not keen enough to detect any scent. They all seem odourless to -me, whereas the purse smells quite distinctly. Shall we have Ellis in -now?”</p> - -<p>The sergeant took a key from a locked drawer and de parted for the -cells, whence he presently reappeared accompanied by the prisoner—a -stout, burly man, in the last stage of dejection.</p> - -<p>“Come, cheer up, Ellis,” said the inspector. “Here’s Dr. Thorndyke -come down to help us and he wants to ask you one or two questions.”</p> - -<p>Ellis looked piteously at Thorndyke, and exclaimed: “I know nothing -whatever about this affair, sir, I swear to God I don’t.”</p> - -<p>“I never supposed you did,” said Thorndyke. “But there are one or two -things that I want you to tell me. To begin with, that purse: where -did you find it?”</p> - -<p>“On the Thorpe road, sir. It was lying in the middle of the footway.”</p> - -<p>“Had any one else passed the spot lately? Did you meet or pass any -one?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, I met a labourer about a minute before I saw the purse. I -can’t imagine why he didn’t see it.”</p> - -<p>“Probably because it wasn’t there,” said Thorndyke. “Is there a hedge -there?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; a hedge on a low bank.”</p> - -<p>“Ha! Well, now, tell me: is there any one about here whom you knew -when you and Pratt were together at Portland? Any old lag—to put it -bluntly—whom you and Pratt have been putting the screw on.”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, I swear there isn’t. But I wouldn’t answer for Pratt. He -had a rare memory for faces.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke reflected. “Were there any escapes from Portland in your -time?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Only one—a man named Dobbs. He made off to the Sea in a sudden fog -and he was supposed to be drowned. His clothes washed up on the Bill, -but not his body. At any rate, he was never heard of again.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Ellis. Do you mind my taking your finger prints?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, not, sir,” was the almost eager reply; and the office -inking-pad being requisitioned, a rough set of finger-prints was -produced; and when Thorndyke had compared them with those on the -brush-case and found no resemblance, Ellis returned to his cell in -quite buoyant spirits.</p> - -<p>Having made several photographs of the strange finger-prints, we -returned to town that evening, taking the negatives with us; and -while we waited for our train, Thorndyke gave a few parting -injunctions to the inspector. “Remember,” he said, “that the man must -have washed his hands before he could appear in public. Search the -banks of every pond, ditch and stream in the neighbourhood for -footprints like those in the avenue; and, if you find any, search the -bottom of the water thoroughly, for he is quite likely to have -dropped the knife into the mud.”</p> - -<p>The photographs, which we handed in at Scotland Yard that same night, -enabled the experts to identify the finger prints as those of Francis -Dobbs, an escaped convict. The two photographs—profile and -full-face—which were attached to his record, were sent down to -Baysford with a description of the man, and were, in due course, -identified with a somewhat mysterious individual, who passed by the -name of Rufus Pembury and who had lived in the neighbourhood as a -private gentleman for some two years. But Rufus Pembury was not to be -found either at his genteel house or elsewhere. All that was known -was, that on the day after the murder, he had converted his entire -“personalty” into “bearer securities,” and then vanished from mortal -ken. Nor has he ever been heard of to this day.</p> - -<p>“And, between ourselves,” said Thorndyke, when we were discussing the -case some time after, “he deserved to escape. It was clearly a case -of blackmail, and to kill a blackmailer—when you have no other -defence against him—is hardly murder. As to Ellis, he could never -have been convicted, and Dobbs, or Pembury, must have known it. But -he would have been committed to the Assizes, and that would have -given time for all traces to disappear. No, Dobbs was a man of -courage, ingenuity and resource; and, above all, he knocked the -bottom out of the great bloodhound superstition.”</p> - -<hr> - -<h2 class="calibre12" id="toc3">THE ECHO OF A MUTINY</h2> - -<h3 class="calibre10" id="toc3_1">PART I</h3> - -<p class="calibre7">DEATH ON THE GIRDLER</p> - -<p><span class="firstletter">P</span><span style="font-variant: small-caps">opular</span> belief ascribes to infants and the lower animals certain -occult powers of divining character denied to the reasoning faculties -of the human adult; and is apt to accept their judgment as finally -overriding the pronouncements of mere experience.</p> - -<p>Whether this belief rests upon any foundation other than the -universal love of paradox it is unnecessary to inquire. It is very -generally entertained, especially by ladies of a certain social -status; and by Mrs. Thomas Solly it was loyally maintained as an -article of faith.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she moralized, “it’s surprisin’ how they know, the little -children and the dumb animals. But they do. There’s no deceivin’ -<span class="calibre15">them</span>. They can tell the gold from the dross in a moment, they can, -and they reads the human heart like a book. Wonderful, I call it. I -suppose it’s instinct.”</p> - -<p>Having delivered herself of this priceless gem of philosophic -thought, she thrust her arms elbow-deep into the foaming wash-tub and -glanced admiringly at her lodger as he sat in the doorway, supporting -on one knee an obese infant of eighteen months and on the other a -fine tabby cat.</p> - -<p>James Brown was an elderly seafaring man, small and slight in build -and in manner suave, insinuating and perhaps a trifle sly. But he had -all the sailor’s love of children and animals, and the sailor’s knack -of making himself acceptable to them, for, as he sat with an empty -pipe wobbling in the grasp of his toothless gums, the baby beamed -with humid smiles, and the cat, rolled into a fluffy ball and purring -like a stocking-loom, worked its fingers ecstatically as if it were -trying on a new pair of gloves.</p> - -<p>“It must be mortal lonely out at the lighthouse,” Mrs. Solly resumed. -“Only three men and never a neighbour to speak to; and, Lord! what a -muddle they must be in with no woman to look after them and keep ’em -tidy. But you won’t be overworked, Mr. Brown, in these long days; day -light till past nine o’clock. I don’t know what you’ll do to pass the -time.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I shall find plenty to do, I expect,” said Brown, “what with -cleanin’ the lamps and glasses and paintin’ up the ironwork. And that -reminds me,” he added, looking round at the clock, “that time’s -getting on. High water at half-past ten, and here it’s gone eight -o’clock.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Solly, acting on the hint, began rapidly to fish out the washed -garments and wring them out into the form of short ropes. Then, -having dried her hands on her apron, she relieved Brown of the -protesting baby.</p> - -<p>“Your room will be ready for you, Mr. Brown,” said she, “when your -turn comes for a spell ashore; and main glad me and Tom will be to -see you back.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Mrs. Solly, ma’am,” answered Brown, tenderly placing the -cat on the floor; “you won’t be more glad than what I will.” He shook -hands warmly with his land lady, kissed the baby, chucked the cat -under the chin, and, picking up his little chest by its becket, swung -it onto his shoulder and strode out of the cottage.</p> - -<p>His way lay across the marshes, and, like the ships in the offing, he -shaped his course by the twin towers of Reculver that stood up -grotesquely on the rim of the land; and as he trod the springy turf, -Tom Solly’s fleecy charges looked up at him with vacant stares and -valedictory bleatings. Once, at a dyke-gate, he paused to look back -at the fair Kentish landscape: at the grey tower of St. -Nicholas-at-Wade peeping above the trees and the faraway mill at -Sarre, whirling slowly in the summer breeze; and, above all, at the -solitary cottage where, for a brief spell in his stormy life, he had -known the homely joys of domesticity and peace. Well, that was over -for the present, and the lighthouse loomed ahead. With a half-sigh he -passed through the gate and walked on towards Reculver.</p> - -<p>Outside the whitewashed cottages with their official black chimneys a -petty-officer of the coast-guard was adjusting the halyards of the -flagstaff. He looked round as Brown approached, and hailed him -cheerily.</p> - -<p>“Here you are, then,” said he, “all figged out in your new togs, too. -But we’re in a bit of a difficulty, d’ye see. We’ve got to pull up to -Whitstable this morning, so I can’t send a man out with you and I -can’t spare a boat.”</p> - -<p>“Have I got to swim out, then?” asked Brown.</p> - -<p>The coast-guard grinned. “Not in them new clothes, mate,” he -answered. “No, but there’s old Willett’s boat; he isn’t using her -to-day; he’s going over to Minster to see his daughter, and he’ll let -us have the loan of the boat. But there’s no one to go with you, and -I’m responsible to Willett.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what about it?” asked Brown, with the deep-sea sailor’s -(usually misplaced) confidence in his power to handle a sailing-boat. -“D’ye think I can’t manage a tub of a boat? Me what’s used the sea -since I was a kid of ten?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said the coast-guard; “but who’s to bring her back?”</p> - -<p>“Why, the man that I’m going to relieve,” answered Brown. “He don’t -want to swim no more than what I do.”</p> - -<p>The coast-guard reflected with his telescope pointed at a passing -barge. “Well, I suppose it’ll be all right,” he concluded; “but it’s -a pity they couldn’t send the tender round. However, if you undertake -to send the boat back, we’ll get her afloat. It’s time you were off.”</p> - -<p>He strolled away to the back of the cottages, whence he presently -returned with two of his mates, and the four men proceeded along the -shore to where Willett’s boat lay just above high-water mark.</p> - -<p>The <span class="calibre15">Emily</span> was a beamy craft of the type locally known as a -“half-share skiff,” solidly built of oak, with varnished planking and -fitted with main and mizzen lugs. She was a good handful for four -men, and, as she slid over the soft chalk rocks with a hollow rumble, -the coast-guards debated the advisability of lifting out the bags of -shingle with which she was ballasted. However, she was at length -dragged down, ballast and all, to the water’s edge, and then, while -Brown stepped the mainmast, the petty-officer gave him his -directions. “What you’ve got to do,” said he, “is to make use of the -flood-tide. Keep her nose nor’-east, and with this trickle of -nor’-westerly breeze you ought to make the lighthouse in one board. -Anyhow don’t let her get east of the lighthouse, or, when the ebb -sets in, you’ll be in a fix.”</p> - -<p>To these admonitions Brown listened with jaunty indifference as he -hoisted the sails and watched the incoming tide creep over the level -shore. Then the boat lifted on the gentle swell. Putting out an oar, -he gave a vigorous shove off that sent the boat, with a final scrape, -clear of the beach, and then, having dropped the rudder onto its -pintles, he seated himself and calmly belayed the main-sheet.</p> - -<p>“There he goes,” growled the coast-guard; “makin’ fast his sheet. -They <span class="calibre15">will</span> do it” (he invariably did it himself), “and that’s how -accidents happen. I hope old Willett ’ll see his boat back all right.”</p> - -<p>He stood for some time watching the dwindling boat as it sidled -across the smooth water; then he turned and followed his mates -towards the station.</p> - -<p>Out on the south-western edge of the Girdler Sand, just inside the -two-fathom line, the spindle-shanked lighthouse stood a-straddle on -its long screw-piles like some uncouth red-bodied wading bird. It was -now nearly half flood tide. The highest shoals were long since -covered, and the lighthouse rose above the smooth sea as solitary as -a slaver becalmed in the “middle passage.”</p> - -<p>On the gallery outside the lantern were two men, the entire staff of -the building, of whom one sat huddled in a chair with his left leg -propped up with pillows on another, while his companion rested a -telescope on the rail and peered at the faint grey line of the -distant land and the two tiny points that marked the twin spires of -Reculver.</p> - -<p>“I don’t see any signs of the boat, Harry,” said he.</p> - -<p>The other man groaned. “I shall lose the tide,” he complained, “and -then there’s another day gone.”</p> - -<p>“They can pull you down to Birchington and put you in the train,” -said the first man.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want no trains,” growled the invalid. “The boat ’ll be bad -enough. I suppose there’s nothing coming our way, Tom?”</p> - -<p>Tom turned his face eastward and shaded his eyes. “There’s a brig -coming across the tide from the north,” he said. “Looks like a -collier.” He pointed his telescope at the approaching vessel, and -added: “She’s got two new cloths in her upper fore top-sail, one on -each leech.”</p> - -<p>The other man sat up eagerly. “What’s her trysail like, Tom?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“Can’t see it,” replied Tom. “Yes, I can, now: it’s tanned. Why, -that’ll be the old <span class="calibre15">Utopia</span>, Harry; she’s the only brig I know that’s -got a tanned trysail.”</p> - -<p>“Look here, Tom,” exclaimed the other, “If that’s the <span class="calibre15">Utopia</span>, she’s -going to my home and I’m going aboard of her. Captain Mockett ’ll -give me a passage, I know.”</p> - -<p>“You oughtn’t to go until you’re relieved, you know, Barnett,” said -Tom doubtfully; “it’s against regulations to leave your station.”</p> - -<p>“Regulations be blowed!” exclaimed Barnett. “My leg’s more to me than -the regulations. I don’t want to be a cripple all my life. Besides, -I’m no good here, and this new chap, Brown, will be coming out -presently. You run up the signal, Tom, like a good comrade, and hail -the brig.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s your look-out,” said Tom, “and I don’t mind saying that -if I was in your place I should cut off home and see a doctor, if I -got the chance.” He sauntered off to the flag-locker, and, selecting -the two code-flags, deliberately toggled them onto the halyards. -Then, as the brig swept up within range, he hoisted the little balls -of bunting to the flagstaff-head and jerked the halyards, when the -two flags blew out making the signal “Need assistance.”</p> - -<p>Promptly a coal-soiled answering pennant soared to the brig’s -main-truck; less promptly the collier went about, and, turning her -nose down stream, slowly drifted stern-forwards towards the -lighthouse. Then a boat slid out through her gangway, and a couple of -men plied the oars vigorously.</p> - -<p>“Lighthouse ahoy!” roared one of them, as the boat came within hail. -“What’s amiss?”</p> - -<p>“Harry Barnett has broke his leg,” shouted the lighthouse keeper, -“and he wants to know if Captain Mockett will give him a passage to -Whitstable.”</p> - -<p>The boat turned back to the brig, and after a brief and bellowed -consultation, once more pulled towards the lighthouse.</p> - -<p>“Skipper says yus,” roared the sailor, when he was within ear-shot, -“and he says look alive, ’cause he don’t want to miss his tide.”</p> - -<p>The injured man heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s good news,” said he, -“though, how the blazes I’m going to get down the ladder is more than -I can tell. What do you say, Jeffreys?”</p> - -<p>“I say you’d better let me lower you with the tackle,” replied -Jeffreys. “You can sit in the bight of a rope and I’ll give you a -line to steady yourself with.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, that’ll do, Tom,” said Barnett; “but, for the Lord’s sake, pay -out the fall-rope gently.”</p> - -<p>The arrangements were made so quickly that by the time the boat was -fast alongside everything was in readiness, and a minute later the -injured man, dangling like a gigantic spider from the end of the -tackle, slowly descended, cursing volubly to the accompaniment of the -creaking of the blocks. His chest and kit-bag followed, and, as soon -as these were unhooked from the tackle, the boat pulled off to the -brig, which was now slowly creeping stern-foremost past the -lighthouse. The sick man was hoisted up the side, his chest handed up -after him, and then the brig was put on her course due South across -the Kentish Flats.</p> - -<p>Jeffreys stood on the gallery watching the receding vessel and -listening to the voices of her crew as they grew small and weak in -the increasing distance. Now that his gruff companion was gone, a -strange loneliness had fallen on the lighthouse. The last of the -homeward-bound ships had long since passed up the Princes Channel and -left the calm sea desolate and blank. The distant buoys, showing as -tiny black dots on the glassy surface, and the spindly shapes of the -beacons which stood up from invisible shoals, but emphasized the -solitude of the empty sea, and the tolling of the bell buoy on the -Shivering Sand, stealing faintly down the wind, sounded weird and -mournful. The day’s work was already done. The lenses were polished, -the lamps had been trimmed, and the little motor that worked the fog -horn had been cleaned and oiled. There were several odd jobs, it is -true, waiting to be done, as there always are in a lighthouse; but, -just now, Jeffreys was not in a working humour. A new comrade was -coming into his life to-day, a stranger with whom he was to be shut -up alone, night and day, for a month on end, and whose temper and -tastes and habits might mean for him pleasant companionship or -jangling and discord without end. Who was this man Brown? What had he -been? and what was he like? These were the questions that passed, -naturally enough, through the lighthouse keeper’s mind and distracted -him from his usual thoughts and occupations.</p> - -<p>Presently a speck on the landward horizon caught his eye. He snatched -up the telescope eagerly to inspect it. Yes, it was a boat; but not -the coast-guard’s cutter, for which he was looking. Evidently a -fisherman’s boat and with only one man in it. He laid down the -telescope with a sigh of disappointment, and, filling his pipe, -leaned on the rail with a dreamy eye bent on the faint grey line of -the land.</p> - -<p>Three long years had he spent in this dreary solitude, so repugnant -to his active, restless nature: three blank, interminable years, with -nothing to look back on but the endless succession of summer calms, -stormy nights and the chilly fogs of winter, when the unseen steamers -hooted from the void and the fog-horn bellowed its hoarse warning.</p> - -<p>Why had he come to this God-forsaken spot? and why did he stay, when -the wide world called to him? And then memory painted him a picture -on which his mind’s eye had often looked before and which once again -arose before him, shutting out the vision of the calm sea and the -distant land. It was a brightly-coloured picture. It showed a -cloudless sky brooding over the deep blue tropic sea: and in the -middle of the picture, see-sawing gently on the quiet swell, a -white-painted barque.</p> - -<p>Her sails were clewed up untidily, her swinging yards jerked at the -slack braces and her untended wheel revolved to and fro to the -oscillations of the rudder.</p> - -<p>She was not a derelict, for more than a dozen men were on her deck; -but the men were all drunk and mostly asleep, and there was never an -officer among them.</p> - -<p>Then he saw the interior of one of her cabins. The chart rack, the -tell-tale compass and the chronometers marked it as the captain’s -cabin. In it were four men, and two of them lay dead on the deck. Of -the other two, one was a small, cunning-faced man, who was, at the -moment, kneeling be side one of the corpses to wipe a knife upon its -coat. The fourth man was himself.</p> - -<p>Again, he saw the two murderers stealing off in a quarter boat, as -the barque with her drunken crew drifted towards the spouting surf of -a river-bar. He saw the ship melt away in the surf like an icicle in -the sunshine; and, later, two shipwrecked mariners, picked up in an -open boat and set ashore at an American port.</p> - -<p>That was why he was here. Because he was a murderer. The other -scoundrel, Amos Todd, had turned Queen’s Evidence and denounced him, -and he had barely managed to escape. Since then he had hidden himself -from the great world, and here he must continue to hide, not from the -law—for his person was unknown now that his shipmates were dead—but -from the partner of his crime. It was the fear of Todd that had -changed him from Jeffrey Rorke to Tom Jeffreys and had sent him to -the Girdler, a prisoner for life. Todd might die—might even now be -dead—but he would never hear of it: would never hear the news of his -release.</p> - -<p>He roused himself and once more pointed his telescope at the distant -boat. She was considerably nearer now and seemed to be heading out -towards the lighthouse. Perhaps the man in her was bringing a -message; at any rate, there was no sign of the coast-guard’s cutter.</p> - -<p>He went in, and, betaking himself to the kitchen, busied himself with -a few simple preparations for dinner. But there was nothing to cook, -for there remained the cold meat from yesterday’s cooking, which he -would make sufficient, with some biscuit in place of potatoes. He -felt restless and unstrung; the solitude irked him, and the -everlasting wash of the water among the piles jarred on his nerves.</p> - -<p>When he went out again into the gallery the ebb-tide had set in -strongly and the boat was little more than a mile distant; and now, -through the glass, he could see that the man in her wore the uniform -cap of the Trinity House. Then the man must be his future comrade, -Brown; but this was very extraordinary. What were they to do with the -boat? There was no one to take her back.</p> - -<p>The breeze was dying away. As he watched the boat, he saw the man -lower the sail and take to his oars; and something of hurry in the -way the man pulled over the gathering tide, caused Jeffreys to look -round the horizon. And then, for the first time, he noticed a bank of -fog creeping up from the east and already so near that the beacon on -the East Girdler had faded out of sight. He hastened in to start the -little motor that compressed the air for the fog-horn and waited -awhile to see that the mechanism was running properly. Then, as the -deck vibrated to the roar of the horn, he went out once more into the -gallery.</p> - -<p>The fog was now all round the lighthouse and the boat was hidden from -view. He listened intently. The enclosing wall of vapour seemed to -have shut out sound as well as vision. At intervals the horn bellowed -its note of warning, and then all was still save the murmur of the -water among the piles below, and, infinitely faint and far away, the -mournful tolling of the bell on the Shivering Sand.</p> - -<p>At length there came to his ear the muffled sound of oars working in -the tholes; then, at the very edge of the circle of grey water that -was visible, the boat appeared through the fog, pale and spectral, -with a shadowy figure pulling furiously. The horn emitted a hoarse -growl; the man looked round, perceived the lighthouse and altered his -course towards it.</p> - -<p>Jeffreys descended the iron stairway, and, walking along the lower -gallery, stood at the head of the ladder earnestly watching the -approaching stranger. Already he was tired of being alone. The -yearning for human companionship had been growing ever since Barnett -left. But what sort of comrade was this stranger who was coming into -his life? And coming to occupy so dominant a place in it.</p> - -<p>The boat swept down swiftly athwart the hurrying tide. Nearer it came -and yet nearer: and still Jeffreys could catch no glimpse of his new -comrade’s face. At length it came fairly alongside and bumped against -the fender-posts; the stranger whisked in an oar and grabbed a rung -of the ladder, and Jeffreys dropped a coil of rope into the boat. And -still the man’s face was hidden.</p> - -<p>Jeffreys, leaned out over the ladder and watched him anxiously, as he -made fast the rope, unhooked the sail from the traveller and -unstepped the mast. When he had set all in order, the stranger picked -up a small chest, and, swinging it over his shoulder, stepped onto -the ladder. Slowly, by reason of his encumbrance, he mounted, rung by -rung, with never an upward glance, and Jeffreys gazed down at the top -of his head with growing curiosity. At last he reached the top of the -ladder and Jeffreys stooped to lend him a hand. Then, for the first -time, he looked up, and Jeffreys started back with a blanched face.</p> - -<p>“God Almighty!” he gasped. “It’s Amos Todd!”</p> - -<p>As the newcomer stepped on the gallery, the fog-horn emitted a roar -like that of some hungry monster. Jeffreys turned abruptly without a -word, and walked to the stairs, followed by Todd, and the two men -ascended with never a sound but the hollow clank of their footsteps -on the iron plates. Silently Jeffreys stalked into the living-room -and, as his companion followed, he turned and motioned to the latter -to set down his chest.</p> - -<p>“You ain’t much of a talker, mate,” said Todd, looking round the room -in some surprise; “ain’t you going to say ‘good-morning’? We’re going -to be good comrades, I hope. I’m Jim Brown, the new hand, I am; what -might your name be?”</p> - -<p>Jeffreys turned on him suddenly and led him to the window. “Look at -me carefully, Amos Todd,” he said sternly, “and then ask yourself -what my name is.”</p> - -<p>At the sound of his voice Todd looked up with a start and turned pale -as death. “It can’t be,” he whispered, “it can’t be Jeff Rorke!”</p> - -<p>The other man laughed harshly, and leaning forward, said in a low -voice: “Hast thou found me, O mine enemy!”</p> - -<p>“Don’t say that!” exclaimed Todd. “Don’t call me your enemy, Jeff. -Lord knows but I’m glad to see you, though I’d never have known you -without your beard and with that grey hair. I’ve been to blame, Jeff, -and I know it; but it ain’t no use raking up old grudges. Let bygones -be bygones, Jeff, and let us be pals as we used to be.” He wiped his -face with his handkerchief and watched his companion apprehensively.</p> - -<p>“Sit down,” said Rorke, pointing to a shabby rep-covered arm-chair; -“sit down and tell me what you’ve done with all that money. You’ve -blued it all, I suppose, or you wouldn’t be here.”</p> - -<p>“Robbed, Jeff,” answered Todd; “robbed of every penny. Ah! that was -an unfortunate affair, that job on board the old <span class="calibre15">Sea-flower</span>. But -it’s over and done with and we’d best forget it. They’re all dead but -us, Jeff, so we’re safe enough so long as we keep our mouths shut; -all at the bottom of the sea—and the best place for ’em too.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” Rorke replied fiercely, “that’s the best place for your -shipmates when they know too much; at the bottom of the sea or -swinging at the end of a rope.” He paced up and down the little room -with rapid strides, and each time that he approached Todd’s chair the -latter shrank back with an expression of alarm.</p> - -<p>“Don’t sit there staring at me,” said Rorke. “Why don’t you smoke or -do something?”</p> - -<p>Todd hastily produced a pipe from his pocket, and having filled it -from a moleskin pouch, stuck it in his mouth while he searched for a -match. Apparently he carried his matches loose in his pocket, for he -presently brought one forth—a red-headed match, which, when he -struck it on the wall, lighted with a pale-blue flame. He applied it -to his pipe, sucking in his cheeks while he kept his eyes fixed on -his companion. Rorke, meanwhile, halted in his walk to cut some -shavings from a cake of hard tobacco with a large clasp-knife; and, -as he stood, he gazed with frowning abstraction at Todd.</p> - -<p>“This pipe’s stopped,” said the latter, sucking ineffectually at the -mouthpiece. “Have you got such a thing as a piece of wire, Jeff?”</p> - -<p>“No, I haven’t,” replied Rorke; “not up here. I’ll get a bit from the -store presently. Here, take this pipe till you can clean your own: -I’ve got another in the rack there.” The sailor’s natural hospitality -overcoming for the moment his animosity, he thrust the pipe that he -had just filled towards Todd, who took it with a mumbled “Thank you” -and an anxious eye on the open knife. On the wall beside the chair -was a roughly-carved pipe-rack containing several pipes, one of which -Rorke lifted out; and, as he leaned over the chair to reach it, -Todd’s face went several shades paler.</p> - -<p>“Well, Jeff,” he said, after a pause, while Rorke cut a fresh “fill” -of tobacco, “are we going to be pals same as what we used to be?”</p> - -<p>Rorke’s animosity lighted up afresh. “Am I going to be pals with the -man that tried to swear away my life?” he said sternly; and after a -pause he added: “That wants thinking about, that does; and meantime I -must go and look at the engine.”</p> - -<p>When Rorke had gone the new hand sat, with the two pipes in his -hands, reflecting deeply. Abstractedly he stuck the fresh pipe into -his mouth, and, dropping the stopped one into the rack, felt for a -match. Still with an air of abstraction he lit the pipe, and having -smoked for a minute or two, rose from the chair and began softly to -creep across the room, looking about him and listening intently. At -the door he paused to look out into the fog, and then, having again -listened attentively, he stepped on tip-toe out onto the gallery and -along towards the stairway. Of a sudden the voice of Rorke brought -him up with a start.</p> - -<p>“Hallo, Todd! where are you off to?”</p> - -<p>“I’m just going down to make the boat secure,” was the reply.</p> - -<p>“Never you mind about the boat,” said Rorke. “I’ll see to her.”</p> - -<p>“Right-o, Jeff,” said Todd, still edging towards the stairway. “But, -I say, mate, where’s the other man—the man that I’m to relieve?”</p> - -<p>“There ain’t any other man,” replied Rorke; “he went off aboard a -collier.”</p> - -<p>Todd’s face suddenly became grey and haggard. “Then there’s no one -here but us two!” he gasped; and then, with an effort to conceal his -fear, he asked: “But who’s going to take the boat back?”</p> - -<p>“We’ll see about that presently,” replied Rorke; “you get along in -and unpack your chest.”</p> - -<p>He came out on the gallery as he spoke, with a lowering frown on his -face. Todd cast a terrified glance at him, and then turned and ran -for his life towards the stairway.</p> - -<p>“Come back!” roared Rorke, springing forward along the gallery; but -Todd’s feet were already clattering down the iron steps. By the time -Rorke reached the head of the stairs, the fugitive was near the -bottom; but here, in his haste, he stumbled, barely saving himself by -the handrail, and when he recovered his balance Rorke was upon him. -Todd darted to the head of the ladder, but, as he grasped the -stanchion, his pursuer seized him by the collar. In a moment he had -turned with his hand under his coat. There was a quick blow, a loud -curse from Rorke, an answering yell from Todd, and a knife fell -spinning through the air and dropped into the fore-peak of the boat -below.</p> - -<p>“You murderous little devil!” said Rorke in an ominously quiet voice, -with his bleeding hand gripping his captive by the throat. “Handy -with your knife as ever, eh? So you were off to give information, -were you?”</p> - -<p>“No, I wasn’t Jeff,” replied Todd in a choking voice; “I wasn’t, -s’elp me, God. Let go, Jeff. I didn’t mean no harm. I was only——” -With a sudden wrench he freed one hand and struck out frantically at -his captor’s face. But Rorke warded off the blow, and, grasping the -other wrist, gave a violent push and let go. Todd staggered backward -a few paces along the staging, bringing up at the extreme edge; and -here, for a sensible time, he stood with wide-open mouth and starting -eye-balls, swaying and clutching wildly at the air. Then, with a -shrill scream, he toppled backwards and fell, striking a pile in his -descent and rebounding into the water.</p> - -<p>In spite of the audible thump of his head on the pile, he was not -stunned, for when he rose to the surface, he struck out vigorously, -uttering short, stifled cries for help. Rorke watched him with set -teeth and quickened breath, but made no move. Smaller and still -smaller grew the head with its little circle of ripples, swept away -on the swift ebb-tide, and fainter the bubbling cries that came -across the smooth water. At length as the small black spot began to -fade in the fog, the drowning man, with a final effort, raised his -head clear of the surface and sent a last, despairing shriek towards -the lighthouse. The fog-horn sent back an answering bellow; the head -sank below the surface and was seen no more; and in the dreadful -stillness that settled down upon the sea there sounded faint and far -away the muffled tolling of a bell.</p> - -<p>Rorke stood for some minutes immovable, wrapped in thought. Presently -the distant hoot of a steamer’s whistle aroused him. The ebb-tide -shipping was beginning to come down and the fog might lift at any -moment; and there was the boat still alongside. She must be disposed -of at once. No one had seen her arrive and no one must see her made -fast to the lighthouse. Once get rid of the boat and all traces of -Todd’s visit would be destroyed. He ran down the ladder and stepped -into the boat. It was simple. She was heavily ballasted, and would go -down if she filled.</p> - -<p>He shifted some of the bags of shingle, and, lifting the bottom -boards, pulled out the plug. Instantly a large jet of water spouted -up into the bottom. Rorke looked at it critically, and, deciding that -it would fill her in a few minutes, replaced the bottom boards; and -having secured the mast and sail with a few turns of the sheet round -a thwart, to prevent them from floating away, he cast off the -mooring-rope and stepped on the ladder.</p> - -<p>As the released boat began to move away on the tide, he ran up and -mounted to the upper gallery to watch her disappearance. Suddenly he -remembered Todd’s chest. It was still in the room below. With a -hurried glance around into the fog, he ran down to the room, and -snatching up the chest, carried it out on the lower gallery. After -another nervous glance around to assure himself that no craft was in -sight, he heaved the chest over the handrail, and, when it fell with -a loud splash into the sea, he waited to watch it float away after -its owner and the sunken boat. But it never rose; and presently he -returned to the upper gallery.</p> - -<p>The fog was thinning perceptibly now, and the boat remained plainly -visible as she drifted away. But she sank more slowly than he had -expected, and presently as she drifted farther away, he fetched the -telescope and peered at her with growing anxiety. It would be -unfortunate if any one saw her; if she should be picked up here, with -her plug out, it would be disastrous.</p> - -<p>He was beginning to be really alarmed. Through the glass he could see -that the boat was now rolling in a sluggish, water-logged fashion, -but she still showed some inches of free-board, and the fog was -thinning every moment.</p> - -<p>Presently the blast of a steamer’s whistle sounded close at hand. He -looked round hurriedly and, seeing nothing, again pointed the -telescope eagerly at the dwindling boat. Suddenly he gave a gasp of -relief. The boat had rolled gun wale under; had staggered back for a -moment and then rolled again, slowly, finally, with the water pouring -in over the submerged gunwale.</p> - -<p>In a few more seconds she had vanished. Rorke lowered the telescope -and took a deep breath. Now he was safe. The boat had sunk unseen. -But he was better than safe: he was free. His evil spirit, the -standing menace of his life, was gone, and the wide world, the world -of life, of action, of pleasure, called to him.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes the fog lifted. The sun shone brightly on the -red-funnelled cattle-boat whose whistle had startled him just now, -the summer blue came back to sky and sea, and the land peeped once -more over the edge of the horizon.</p> - -<p>He went in, whistling cheerfully, and stopped the motor; returned to -coil away the rope that he had thrown to Todd; and, when he had -hoisted a signal for assistance, he went in once more to eat his -solitary meal in peace and gladness.</p> - -<h3 class="calibre10" id="toc3_2">PART II</h3> - -<p class="calibre7">“THE SINGING BONE”</p> - -<p class="related">(Related by Christopher Jervis, M.D.)</p> - -<p><span class="firstletter">T</span><span style="font-variant: small-caps">o</span> every kind of scientific work a certain amount of manual labour -naturally appertains, labour that cannot be performed by the -scientist himself, since art is long but life is short. A chemical -analysis involves a laborious “clean up” of apparatus and laboratory, -for which the chemist has no time; the preparation of a skeleton—the -maceration, bleaching, “assembling,” and riveting together of -bones—must be carried out by some one whose time is not too -precious. And so with other Scientific activities. Behind the man of -science with his outfit of knowledge is the indispensable mechanic -with his outfit of manual skill.</p> - -<p>Thorndyke’s laboratory assistant, Polton, was a fine example of the -latter type, deft, resourceful, ingenious and untiring. He was -somewhat of an inventive genius, too; and it was one of his -inventions that connected us with the singular case that I am about -to record.</p> - -<p>Though by trade a watchmaker, Polton was, by choice, an optician. -Optical apparatus was the passion of his life; and when, one day, he -produced for our inspection an improved prism for increasing the -efficiency of gas-buoys, Thorndyke at once brought the invention to -the notice of a friend at the Trinity House.</p> - -<p>As a consequence, we three—Thorndyke, Polton and I—found ourselves -early on a fine July morning making our way down Middle Temple Lane -bound for the Temple Pier. A small oil-launch lay alongside the -pontoon, and, as we made our appearance, a red-faced, white-whiskered -gentleman stood up in the cockpit.</p> - -<p>“Here’s a delightful morning, doctor,” he sang out in a fine, brassy, -resonant, seafaring voice; “sort of day for a trip to the lower -river, hey? Hallo, Polton! Coming down to take the bread out of our -mouths, are you? Ha, ha!” The cheery laugh rang out over the river -and mingled with the throb of the engine as the launch moved off from -the pier.</p> - -<p>Captain Grumpass was one of the Elder Brethren of the Trinity House. -Formerly a client of Thorndyke’s he had subsided, as Thorndyke’s -clients were apt to do, into the position of a personal friend, and -his hearty regard included our invaluable assistant.</p> - -<p>“Nice state of things,” continued the captain, with a chuckle, “when -a body of nautical experts have got to be taught their business by a -parcel of lawyers or doctors, what? I suppose trade’s slack and -‘Satan findeth mischief still,’ hey, Polton?”</p> - -<p>“There isn’t much doing on the civil side, sir,” replied Polton, with -a quaint, crinkly smile, “but the criminals are still going strong.”</p> - -<p>“Ha! mystery department still flourishing, what? And, by Jove! -talking of mysteries, doctor, our people have got a queer problem to -work out; something quite in your line—quite. Yes, and, by the Lord -Moses, since I’ve got you here, why shouldn’t I suck your brains?”</p> - -<p>“Exactly,” said Thorndyke. “Why shouldn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Well, then, I will,” said the captain, “so here goes. All hands to -the pump!” He lit a cigar, and, after a few preliminary puffs, began: -“The mystery, shortly stated, is this: one of our lighthousemen has -disappeared—vanished off the face of the earth and left no trace. He -may have bolted, he may have been drowned accidentally or he may have -been murdered. But I’d rather give you the particulars in order. At -the end of last week a barge brought into Ramsgate a letter from the -screw-pile lighthouse on the Girdler. There are only two men there, -and it seems that one of them, a man named Barnett, had broken his -leg, and he asked that the tender should be sent to bring him ashore. -Well, it happened that the local tender, the <span class="calibre15">Warden</span>, was up on the -slip in Ramsgate Harbour, having a scrape down, and wouldn’t be -available for a day or two, so, as the case was urgent, the officer -at Ramsgate sent a letter to the lighthouse by one of the pleasure -steamers saying that the man should be relieved by boat on the -following morning, which was Saturday. He also wrote to a new hand -who had just been taken on, a man named James Brown, who was lodging -near Reculver, waiting his turn, telling him to go out on Saturday -morning in the coast-guard’s boat; and he sent a third letter to the -coast-guard at Reculver asking him to take Brown out to the -lighthouse and bring Barnett ashore. Well, between them, they made a -fine muddle of it. The coast-guard couldn’t spare either a boat or a -man, so they borrowed a fisherman’s boat, and in this the man Brown -started off alone, like an idiot, on the chance that Barnett would be -able to sail the boat back in spite of his broken leg.</p> - -<p>“Meanwhile Barnett, who is a Whitstable man, had signalled a collier -bound for his native town, and got taken off; so that the other -keeper, Thomas Jeffreys, was left alone until Brown should turn up.</p> - -<p>“But Brown never did turn up. The coast-guard helped him to put off -and saw him well out to sea, and the keeper, Jeffreys, saw a -sailing-boat with one man in her making for the lighthouse. Then a -bank of fog came up and hit the boat, and when the fog cleared she -was nowhere to be seen. Man and boat had vanished and left no sign.”</p> - -<p>“He may have been run down,” Thorndyke suggested.</p> - -<p>“He may,” agreed the captain, “but no accident has been reported. The -coast-guards think he may have capsized in a squall—they saw him -make the sheet fast. But there weren’t any squalls; the weather was -quite calm.”</p> - -<p>“Was he all right and well when he put off?” inquired Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied the captain, “the coast-guards’ report is highly -circumstantial; in fact, it’s full of silly details that have no -bearing on anything. This is what they say.” He pulled out an -official letter and read: “‘When last seen, the missing man was -seated in the boat’s stern to windward of the helm. He had belayed -the sheet. He was holding a pipe and tobacco-pouch in his hands and -steering with his elbow. He was filling the pipe from the -tobacco-pouch.’ There! ‘He was holding the pipe in his hand,’ mark -you! not with his toes; and he was filling it from a tobacco-pouch, -whereas you’d have expected him to fill it from a coal scuttle or a -feeding-bottle. Bah!” The captain rammed the letter back in his -pocket and puffed scornfully at his cigar.</p> - -<p>“You are hardly fair to the coastguard,” said Thorndyke, laughing at -the captain’s vehemence. “The duty of a witness is to give <span class="calibre15">all</span> the -facts, not a judicious selection.”</p> - -<p>“But, my dear sir,” said Captain Grumpass, “what the deuce can it -matter what the poor devil filled his pipe from?”</p> - -<p>“Who can say?” answered Thorndyke. “It may turn out to be a highly -material fact. One never knows before hand. The value of a particular -fact depends on its relation to the rest of the evidence.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose it does,” grunted the captain; and he continued to smoke -in reflective silence until we opened Blackwall Point, when he -suddenly stood up.</p> - -<p>“There’s a steam trawler alongside our wharf,” he announced. “Now -what the deuce can she be doing there?” He scanned the little steamer -attentively, and continued: “They seem to be landing something, too. -Just pass me those glasses, Polton. Why, hang me! it’s a dead body! -But why on earth are they landing it on our wharf? They must have -known you were coming, doctor.”</p> - -<p>As the launch swept alongside the wharf, the captain sprang up -lightly and approached the group gathered round the body. “What’s -this?” he asked. “Why have they brought this thing here?”</p> - -<p>The master of the trawler, who had superintended the landing, -proceeded to explain.</p> - -<p>“It’s one of your men, sir,” said he. “We saw the body lying on the -edge of the South Shingles Sand, close to the beacon, as we passed at -low water, so we put off the boat and fetched it aboard. As there was -nothing to identify the man by, I had a look in his pockets and found -this letter.” He handed the captain an official envelope addressed to -“Mr. J. Brown, c/o Mr. Solly, Shepherd, Reculver, Kent.”</p> - -<p>“Why, this is the man we were speaking about, doctor,” exclaimed -Captain Grumpass. “What a very singular coincidence. But what are we -to do with the body?”</p> - -<p>“You will have to write to the coroner,” replied Thorndyke. “By the -way, did you turn out all the pockets?” he asked, turning to the -skipper of the trawler.</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” was the reply. “I found the letter in the first pocket -that I felt in, so I didn’t examine any of the others. Is there -anything more that you want to know, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing but your name and address, for the coroner,” replied -Thorndyke, and the skipper, having given this information and -expressed the hope that the coroner would not keep him “hanging -about,” returned to his vessel and pursued his way to Billingsgate.</p> - -<p>“I wonder if you would mind having a look at the body of this poor -devil, while Polton is showing us his contraptions,” said Captain -Grumpass.</p> - -<p>“I can’t do much without a coroner’s order,” replied Thorndyke; “but -if it will give you any satisfaction, Jervis and I will make a -preliminary inspection with pleasure.”</p> - -<p>“I should be glad if you would,” said the captain. “We should like to -know that the poor beggar met his end fairly.”</p> - -<p>The body was accordingly moved to a shed, and, as Polton was led -away, carrying the black bag that contained his precious model, we -entered the shed and commenced our investigation.</p> - -<p>The deceased was a small, elderly man, decently dressed in a somewhat -nautical fashion. He appeared to have been dead only two or three -days, and the body, unlike the majority of sea-borne corpses, was -uninjured by fish or crabs. There were no fractured bones or other -gross injuries, and no wounds, excepting a rugged tear in the scalp -at the back of the head.</p> - -<p>“The general appearance of the body,” said Thorndyke, when he had -noted these particulars, “suggests death by drowning, though, of -course, we can’t give a definite opinion until a <span class="calibre15">post mortem</span> has -been made.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t attach any significance to that scalp-wound, then?” I -asked.</p> - -<p>“As a cause of death? No. It was obviously inflicted during life, but -it seems to have been an oblique blow that spent its force on the -scalp, leaving the skull uninjured. But it is very significant in -another way.”</p> - -<p>“In what way?” I asked.</p> - -<p>Thorndyke took out his pocket-case and extracted a pair of forceps. -“Consider the circumstances,” said he. “This man put off from the -shore to go to the lighthouse, but never arrived there. The question -is, where did he arrive?” As he spoke he stooped over the corpse and -turned back the hair round the wound with the beak of the forceps. -“Look at those white objects among the hair, Jervis, and inside the -wound. They tell us something, I think.”</p> - -<p>I examined, through my lens, the chalky fragments to which he -pointed. “These seem to be bits of shells and the tubes of some -marine worm,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he answered; “the broken shells are evidently those of the -acorn barnacle, and the other fragments are mostly pieces of the -tubes of the common serpula. The inference that these objects suggest -is an important one. It is that this wound was produced by some body -encrusted by acorn barnacles and serpulæ; that is to say, by a body -that is periodically submerged. Now, what can that body be, and how -can the deceased have knocked his head against it?”</p> - -<p>“It might be the stem of a ship that ran him down,” I suggested.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think you would find many serpulæ on the stem of a ship,” -said Thorndyke. “The combination rather suggests some stationary -object between tidemarks, such as a beacon. But one doesn’t see how a -man could knock his head against a beacon, while, on the other hand, -there are no other stationary objects out in the estuary to knock -against except buoys, and a buoy presents a flat surface that could -hardly have produced this wound. By the way, we may as well see what -there is in his pockets, though it is not likely that robbery had -anything to do with his death.”</p> - -<p>“No,” I agreed, “and I see his watch is in his pocket; quite a good -silver one,” I added, taking it out. “It has stopped at 12.13.”</p> - -<p>“That may be important,” said Thorndyke, making a note of the fact; -“but we had better examine the pockets one at a time, and put the -things back when we have looked at them.”</p> - -<p>The first pocket that we turned out was the left hip-pocket of the -monkey jacket. This was apparently the one that the skipper had -rifled, for we found in it two letters, both bearing the crest of the -Trinity House. These, of course, we returned without reading, and -then passed on to the right pocket. The contents of this were -commonplace enough, consisting of a briar pipe, a moleskin pouch and -a number of loose matches.</p> - -<p>“Rather a casual proceeding, this,” I remarked, “to carry matches -loose in the pocket, and a pipe with them, too.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” agreed Thorndyke; “especially with these very inflammable -matches. You notice that the sticks had been coated at the upper end -with sulphur before the red phosphorous heads were put on. They would -light with a touch, and would be very difficult to extinguish; which, -no doubt, is the reason that this type of match is so popular among -seamen, who have to light their pipes in all sorts of weather.” As he -spoke he picked up the pipe and looked at it reflectively, turning it -over in his hand and peering into the bowl. Suddenly he glanced from -the pipe to the dead man’s face and then, with the forceps, turned -back the lips to look into the mouth.</p> - -<p>“Let us see what tobacco he smokes,” said he.</p> - -<p>I opened the sodden pouch and displayed a mass of dark, fine-cut -tobacco. “It looks like shag,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is shag,” he replied; “and now we will see what is in the -pipe. It has been only half-smoked out.” He dug out the “dottle” with -his pocket-knife onto a sheet of paper, and we both inspected it. -Clearly it was not shag, for it consisted of coarsely-cut shreds and -was nearly black.</p> - -<p>“Shavings from a cake of ‘hard,’” was my verdict, and Thorndyke -agreed as he shot the fragments back into the pipe.</p> - -<p>The other pockets yielded nothing of interest, except a pocket-knife, -which Thorndyke opened and examined closely. There was not much -money, though as much as one would expect, and enough to exclude the -idea of robbery.</p> - -<p>“Is there a sheath-knife on that strap?” Thorndyke asked, pointing to -a narrow leather belt. I turned back the jacket and looked.</p> - -<p>“There is a sheath,” I said, “but no knife. It must have dropped out.”</p> - -<p>“That is rather odd,” said Thorndyke. “A sailor’s sheath-knife takes -a deal of shaking out as a rule. It is intended to be used in working -on the rigging when the man is aloft, so that he can get it out with -one hand while he is holding on with the other. It has to be and -usually is very secure, for the sheath holds half the handle as well -as the blade. What makes one notice the matter in this case is that -the man, as you see, carried a pocket-knife; and, as this would serve -all the ordinary purposes of a knife, it seems to suggest that the -sheath-knife was carried for defensive purposes: as a weapon, in -fact. However, we can’t get much further in the case with out a <span class="calibre15">post -mortem</span>, and here comes the captain.”</p> - -<p>Captain Grumpass entered the shed and looked down commiseratingly at -the dead seaman.</p> - -<p>“Is there anything, doctor, that throws any light on the man’s -disappearance?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“There are one or two curious features in the case,” Thorndyke -replied; “but, oddly enough, the only really important point arises -out of that statement of the coastguard’s, concerning which you were -so scornful.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t say so!” exclaimed the captain.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Thorndyke; “the coast-guard states that when last seen -deceased was filling his pipe from his tobacco pouch. Now his pouch -contains shag; but the pipe in his pocket contains hard cut.”</p> - -<p>“Is there no cake tobacco in any of the pockets?”</p> - -<p>“Not a fragment. Of course, it is possible that he might have had a -piece and used it up to fill the pipe; but there is no trace of any -on the blade of his pocket-knife, and you know how this juicy black -cake stains a knife-blade. His sheath-knife is missing, but he would -hardly have used that to shred tobacco when he had a pocket-knife.”</p> - -<p>“No,” assented the captain; “but are you sure he hadn’t a second -pipe?”</p> - -<p>“There was only one pipe,” replied Thorndyke, “and that was not his -own.”</p> - -<p>“Not his own!” exclaimed the captain, halting by a huge, chequered -buoy to stare at my colleague. “How do you know it was not his own?”</p> - -<p>“By the appearance of the vulcanite mouthpiece,” said Thorndyke. “It -showed deep tooth-marks; in fact, it was nearly bitten through. Now a -man who bites through his pipe usually presents certain definite -physical peculiarities, among which is, necessarily, a fairly good -set of teeth. But the dead man had not a tooth in his head.”</p> - -<p>The captain cogitated a while, and then remarked: “I don’t quite see -the bearing of this.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you?” said Thorndyke. “It seems to me highly suggestive. Here -is a man who, when last seen, was filling his pipe with a particular -kind of tobacco. He is picked up dead, and his pipe contains a -totally different kind of tobacco. Where did that tobacco come from? -The obvious suggestion is that he had met some one.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it does look like it,” agreed the captain.</p> - -<p>“Then,” continued Thorndyke, “there is the fact that his sheath-knife -is missing. That may mean nothing, but we have to bear it in mind. -And there is another curious circumstance: there is a wound on the -back of the head caused by a heavy bump against some body that was -covered with acorn barnacles and marine worms. Now there are no piers -or stages out in the open estuary. The question is, what could he -have struck?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, there is nothing in that,” said the captain. “When a body has -been washing about in a tide-way for close on three days——”</p> - -<p>“But this is not a question of a body,” Thorndyke interrupted. “The -wound was made during life.”</p> - -<p>“The deuce it was!” exclaimed the captain. “Well, all I can suggest -is that he must have fouled one of the beacons in the fog, stove in -his boat and bumped his head, though, I must admit, that’s rather a -lame explanation.” He stood for a minute gazing at his toes with a -cogitative frown and then looked up at Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“I have an idea,” he said. “From what you say, this matter wants -looking into pretty carefully. Now, I am going down on the tender -to-day to make inquiries on the spot. What do you say to coming with -me as adviser—as a matter of business, of course—you and Dr. -Jervis? I shall start about eleven; we shall be at the lighthouse by -three o’clock, and you can get back to town to-night, if you want to. -What do you say?”</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing to hinder us,” I put in eagerly, for even at -Bugsby’s Hole the river looked very alluring on this summer morning.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said Thorndyke, “we will come. Jervis is evidently -hankering for a sea-trip, and so am I, for that matter.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a business engagement, you know,” the captain stipulated.</p> - -<p>“Nothing of the kind,” said Thorndyke; “it’s unmitigated pleasure; -the pleasure of the voyage and your high well-born society.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t mean that,” grumbled the captain, “but, if you are coming -as guests, send your man for your nightgear and let us bring you back -tomorrow evening.”</p> - -<p>“We won’t disturb Polton,” said my colleague; “we can take the train -from Blackwall and fetch our things ourselves. Eleven o’clock, you -said?”</p> - -<p>“Thereabouts,” said Captain Grumpass; “but don’t put yourselves out.”</p> - -<p>The means of communication in London have reached an almost -undesirable state of perfection. With the aid of the snorting train -and the tinkling, two-wheeled “gondola,” we crossed and re-crossed -the town with such celerity that it was barely eleven when we -reappeared on Trinity Wharf with a joint Gladstone and Thorndyke’s -little green case.</p> - -<p>The tender had hauled out of Bow Creek, and now lay alongside the -wharf with a great striped can buoy dangling from her derrick, and -Captain Grumpass stood at the gang way, his jolly, red face beaming -with pleasure. The buoy was safely stowed forward, the derrick hauled -up to the mast, the loose shrouds rehooked to the screw-lanyards, and -the steamer, with four jubilant hoots, swung round and shoved her -sharp nose against the incoming tide.</p> - -<p>For near upon four hours the ever-widening stream of the “London -River” unfolded its moving panorama. The smoke and smell of Woolwich -Reach gave place to lucid air made soft by the summer haze; the grey -huddle of factories fell away and green levels of cattle-spotted -marsh stretched away to the high land bordering the river valley. -Venerable training ships displayed their chequered hulls by the -wooded shore, and whispered of the days of oak and hemp, when the -tall three-decker, comely and majestic, with her soaring heights of -canvas, like towers of ivory, had not yet given place to the -mud-coloured saucepans that fly the white ensign now-a-days and -devour the substance of the British taxpayer: when a sailor was a -sailor and not a mere seafaring mechanic. Sturdily breasting the -flood tide, the tender threaded her way through the endless -procession of shipping; barges, billy-boys, schooners, brigs; lumpish -Black-seamen, blue-funnelled China tramps, rickety Baltic barques -with twirling windmills, gigantic liners, staggering under a mountain -of top-hamper. Erith, Purfleet, Greenhithe, Grays greeted us and -passed astern. The chimneys of Northfleet, the clustering roofs of -Gravesend, the populous anchorage and the lurking batteries, were -left behind, and, as we swung out of the Lower Hope, the wide expanse -of sea reach spread out before us like a great sheet of blue-shot -satin.</p> - -<p>About half-past twelve the ebb overtook us and helped us on our way, -as we could see by the speed with which the distant land slid past, -and the freshening of the air as we passed through it.</p> - -<p>But sky and sea were hushed in a summer calm. Balls of fleecy cloud -hung aloft, motionless in the soft blue; the barges drifted on the -tide with drooping sails, and a big, striped bell buoy—surmounted by -a staff and cage and labelled “Shivering Sand”—sat dreaming in the -sun above its motionless reflection, to rouse for a moment as it met -our wash, nod its cage drowsily, utter a Solemn ding-dong, and fall -asleep again.</p> - -<p>It was shortly after passing the buoy that the gaunt shape of a -screw-pile lighthouse began to loom up ahead, its dull red paint -turned to vermilion by the early afternoon sun. As we drew nearer, -the name <span class="calibre15">Girdler</span>, painted in huge, white letters, became visible, -and two men could be seen in the gallery around the lantern, -inspecting us through a telescope.</p> - -<p>“Shall you be long at the lighthouse, sir?” the master of the tender -inquired of Captain Grumpass; “because we’re going down to the -North-East Pan Sand to fix this new buoy and take up the old one.”</p> - -<p>“Then you’d better put us off at the lighthouse and come back for us -when you’ve finished the job,” was the reply. “I don’t know how long -we shall be.”</p> - -<p>The tender was brought to, a boat lowered, and a couple of hands -pulled us across the intervening space of water.</p> - -<p>“It will be a dirty climb for you in your shore-going clothes,” the -captain remarked—he was as spruce as a new pin himself, “but the -stuff will all wipe off.” We looked up at the skeleton shape. The -falling tide had exposed some fifteen feet of the piles, and piles -and ladder alike were swathed in sea-grass and encrusted with -barnacles and worm tubes. But we were not such town-sparrows as the -captain seemed to think, for we both followed his lead without -difficulty up the slippery ladder, Thorndyke clinging tenaciously to -his little green case, from which he refused to be separated even for -an instant.</p> - -<p>“These gentlemen and I,” said the captain, as we stepped on the stage -at the head of the ladder, “have come to make inquiries about the -missing man, James Brown. Which of you is Jeffreys?”</p> - -<p>“I am, sir,” replied a tall, powerful, square-jawed, beetle-browed -man, whose left hand was tied up in a rough bandage.</p> - -<p>“What have you been doing to your hand?” asked the captain.</p> - -<p>“I cut it while I was peeling some potatoes,” was the reply. “It -isn’t much of a cut, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Jeffreys,” said the captain, “Brown’s body has been picked up -and I want particulars for the inquest. You’ll be summoned as a -witness, I suppose, so come in and tell us all you know.”</p> - -<p>We entered the living-room and seated ourselves at the table. The -captain opened a massive pocket-book, while Thorndyke, in his -attentive, inquisitive fashion, looked about the odd, cabin-like room -as if making a mental inventory of its contents.</p> - -<p>Jeffreys’ statement added nothing to what we already knew. He had -seen a boat with one man in it making for the lighthouse. Then the -fog had drifted up and he had lost sight of the boat. He started the -fog-horn and kept a bright look-out, but the boat never arrived. And -that was all he knew. He supposed that the man must have missed the -lighthouse and been carried away on the ebb-tide, which was running -strongly at the time.</p> - -<p>“What time was it when you last saw the boat?” Thorndyke asked.</p> - -<p>“About half-past eleven,” replied Jeffreys.</p> - -<p>“What was the man like?” asked the captain.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, sir; he was rowing, and his back was towards me.”</p> - -<p>“Had he any kit-bag or chest with him?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“He’d got his chest with him,” said Jeffreys.</p> - -<p>“What sort of chest was it?” inquired Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“A small chest, painted green, with rope beckets.”</p> - -<p>“Was it corded?”</p> - -<p>“It had a single cord round, to hold the lid down.”</p> - -<p>“Where was it stowed?”</p> - -<p>“In the stern-sheets, sir.”</p> - -<p>“How far off was the boat when you last saw it?”</p> - -<p>“About half-a-mile.”</p> - -<p>“Half-a-mile!” exclaimed the captain. “Why, how the deuce could you -see that chest half-a-mile away?”</p> - -<p>The man reddened and cast a look of angry suspicion at Thorndyke. “I -was watching the boat through the glass, sir,” he replied sulkily.</p> - -<p>“I see,” said Captain Grumpass. “Well, that will do, Jeffreys. We -shall have to arrange for you to attend the inquest. Tell Smith I -want to see him.”</p> - -<p>The examination concluded, Thorndyke and I moved our chairs to the -window, which looked out over the sea to the east. But it was not the -sea or the passing ships that engaged my colleague’s attention. On -the wall, beside the window, hung a rudely-carved pipe-rack -containing five pipes. Thorndyke had noted it when we entered the -room, and now, as we talked, I observed him regarding it from time to -time with speculative interest.</p> - -<p>“You men seem to be inveterate smokers,” he remarked to the keeper, -Smith, when the captain had concluded the arrangements for the -“shift.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we do like our bit of ‘baccy, sir, and that’s a fact,” -answered Smith. “You see, sir,” he continued, “it’s a lonely life, -and tobacco’s cheap out here.”</p> - -<p>“How is that?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“Why, we get it given to us. The small craft from foreign, especially -the Dutchmen, generally heave us a cake or two when they pass close. -We’re not ashore, you see, so there’s no duty to pay.”</p> - -<p>“So you don’t trouble the tobacconists much? Don’t go in for cut -tobacco?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir; we’d have to buy it, and then the cut stuff wouldn’t keep. -No, it’s hard-tack to eat out here and hard tobacco to smoke.”</p> - -<p>“I see you’ve got a pipe-rack, too, quite a stylish affair.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Smith, “I made it in my off-time. Keeps the place tidy -and looks more ship-shape than letting the pipes lay about anywhere.”</p> - -<p>“Some one seems to have neglected his pipe,” said Thorndyke, pointing -to one at the end of the rack which was coated with green mildew.</p> - -<p>“Yes; that’s Parsons, my mate. He must have left it when he went off -near a month ago. Pipes do go mouldy in the damp air out here.”</p> - -<p>“How soon does a pipe go mouldy if it is left untouched?” Thorndyke -asked.</p> - -<p>“It’s according to the weather,” said Smith. “When it’s warm and damp -they’ll begin to go in about a week. Now here’s Barnett’s pipe that -he’s left behind—the man that broke his leg, you know, sir—it’s -just beginning to spot a little. He couldn’t have used it for a day -or two before he went.”</p> - -<p>“And are all these other pipes yours?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir. This here one is mine. The end one is Jeffreys’, and I -suppose the middle one is his too, but I don’t know it.”</p> - -<p>“You’re a demon for pipes, doctor,” said the captain, strolling up at -this moment; “you seem to make a special study of them.”</p> - -<p>“‘The proper study of mankind is man,’” replied Thorndyke, as the -keeper retired, “and ‘man’ includes those objects on which his -personality is impressed. Now a pipe is a very personal thing. Look -at that row in the rack. Each has its own physiognomy which, in a -measure, reflects the peculiarities of the owner. There is Jeffreys’ -pipe at the end, for instance. The mouthpiece is nearly bitten -through, the bowl scraped to a shell and scored inside and the brim -battered and chipped. The whole thing speaks of rude strength and -rough handling. He chews the stem as he smokes, he scrapes the bowl -violently, and he bangs the ashes out with unnecessary force. And the -man fits the pipe exactly: powerful, square-jawed and, I should say, -violent on occasion.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, he looks a tough customer, does Jeffreys,” agreed the captain.</p> - -<p>“Then,” continued Thorndyke, “there is Smith’s pipe, next to it; -‘coked’ up until the cavity is nearly filled and burnt all round the -edge; a talker’s pipe, constantly going out and being relit. But the -one that interests me most is the middle one.”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t Smith say that was Jeffreys’ too?” I said.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied Thorndyke, “but he must be mistaken. It is the very -opposite of Jeffreys’ pipe in every respect. To begin with, although -it is an old pipe, there is not a sign of any tooth-mark on the -mouthpiece. It is the only one in the rack that is quite unmarked. -Then the brim is quite uninjured: it has been handled gently, and the -silver band is jet-black, whereas the band on Jeffreys’ pipe is quite -bright.”</p> - -<p>“I hadn’t noticed that it had a band,” said the captain. “What has -made it so black?”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke lifted the pipe out of the rack and looked at it closely. -“Silver sulphide,” said he, “the sulphur no doubt derived from -something carried in the pocket.”</p> - -<p>“I see,” said Captain Grumpass, smothering a yawn and gazing out of -the window at the distant tender. “Incidentally it’s full of tobacco. -What moral do you draw from that?”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke turned the pipe over and looked closely at the mouthpiece. -“The moral is,” he replied, “that you should see that your pipe is -clear before you fill it.” He pointed to the mouthpiece, the bore of -which was completely stopped up with fine fluff.</p> - -<p>“An excellent moral too,” said the captain, rising with an other -yawn. “If you’ll excuse me a minute I’ll just go and see what the -tender is up to. She seems to be crossing to the East Girdler.” He -reached the telescope down from its brackets and went out onto the -gallery.</p> - -<p>As the captain retreated, Thorndyke opened his pocket knife, and, -sticking the blade into the bowl of the pipe, turned the tobacco out -into his hand.</p> - -<p>“Shag, by Jove!” I exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he answered, poking it back into the bowl. “Didn’t you expect -it to be shag?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know that I expected anything,” I admitted. “The silver band -was occupying my attention.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that is an interesting point,” said Thorndyke, “but let us see -what the obstruction consists of.” He opened the green case, and, -taking out a dissecting needle, neatly extracted a little ball of -fluff from the bore of the pipe. Laying this on a glass slide, he -teased it out in a drop of glycerine and put on a cover-glass while I -set up the microscope.</p> - -<p>“Better put the pipe back in the rack,” he said, as he laid the slide -on the stage of the instrument. I did so and then turned, with no -little excitement, to watch him as he examined the specimen. After a -brief inspection he rose and waved his hand towards the microscope.</p> - -<p>“Take a look at it, Jervis,” he said.</p> - -<p>I applied my eye to the instrument, and, moving the slide about, -identified the constituents of the little mass of fluff. The -ubiquitous cotton fibre was, of course, in evidence, and a few fibres -of wool, but the most remarkable objects were two or three -hairs—very minute hairs of a definite zigzag shape and having a flat -expansion near the free end like the blade of a paddle.</p> - -<p>“These are the hairs of some small animal,” I said; “not a mouse or -rat or any rodent, I should say. Some small insectivorous animal, I -fancy. Yes! Of course! They are the hairs of a mole.” I stood up, -and, as the importance of the discovery flashed on me, I looked at my -colleague in silence.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said, “they are unmistakable; and they furnish the keystone -of the argument.”</p> - -<p>“You think that this is really the dead man’s pipe, then?” I said.</p> - -<p>“According to the law of multiple evidence,” he replied, “it is -practically a certainty. Consider the facts in sequence. Since there -is no sign of mildew on it, this pipe can have been here only a short -time, and must belong either to Barnett, Smith, Jeffreys or Brown. It -is an old pipe, but it has no tooth-marks on it. Therefore it has -been used by a man who has no teeth. But Barnett, Smith and Jeffreys -all have teeth and mark their pipes, whereas Brown has no teeth. The -tobacco in it is shag. But these three men do not smoke shag, whereas -Brown had shag in his pouch. The silver band is encrusted with -sulphide; and Brown carried sulphur-tipped matches loose in his -pocket with his pipe. We find hairs of a mole in the bore of the -pipe; and Brown carried a mole skin pouch in the pocket in which he -appears to have carried his pipe. Finally, Brown’s pocket contained a -pipe which was obviously not his and which closely resembled that of -Jeffreys; it contained tobacco similar to that which Jeffreys smokes -and different from that in Brown’s pouch. It appears to me quite -conclusive, especially when we add to this evidence the other items -that are in our possession.”</p> - -<p>“What items are they?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“First there is the fact that the dead man had knocked his head -heavily against some periodically submerged body covered with acorn -barnacles and serpulæ. Now the piles of this lighthouse answer to the -description exactly, and there are no other bodies in the -neighbourhood that do: for even the beacons are too large to have -produced that kind of wound. Then the dead man’s sheath-knife is -missing, and Jeffreys has a knife-wound on his hand. You must admit -that the circumstantial evidence is overwhelming.”</p> - -<p>At this moment the captain bustled into the room with the telescope -in his hand. “The tender is coming up towing a strange boat,” he -said. “I expect it’s the missing one, and, if it is, we may learn -something. You’d better pack up your traps and get ready to go on -board.”</p> - -<p>We packed the green case and went out into the gallery, where the two -keepers were watching the approaching tender; Smith frankly curious -and interested, Jeffreys restless, fidgety and noticeably pale. As -the steamer came opposite the lighthouse, three men dropped into the -boat and pulled across, and one of them—the mate of the tender—came -climbing up the ladder.</p> - -<p>“Is that the missing boat?” the captain sang out.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” answered the officer, stepping onto the staging and -wiping his hands on the reverse aspect of his trousers, “we saw her -lying on the dry patch of the East Girdler. There’s been some -hanky-panky in this job, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Foul play, you think, hey?”</p> - -<p>“Not a doubt of it, sir. The plug was out and lying loose in the -bottom, and we found a sheath-knife sticking into the kelson forward -among the coils of the painter. It was stuck in hard as if it had -dropped from a height.”</p> - -<p>“That’s odd,” said the captain. “As to the plug, it might have got -out by accident.”</p> - -<p>“But it hadn’t sir,” said the mate. “The ballast-bags had been -shifted along to get the bottom boards up. Besides, sir, a seaman -wouldn’t let the boat fill; he’d have put the plug back and baled -out.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true,” replied Captain Grumpass; “and certainly the presence -of the knife looks fishy. But where the deuce could it have dropped -from, out in the open sea? Knives don’t drop from the -clouds—fortunately. What do you say, doctor?”</p> - -<p>“I should say that it is Brown’s own knife, and that it probably fell -from this staging.”</p> - -<p>Jeffreys turned swiftly, crimson with wrath. “What d’ye mean?” he -demanded. “Haven’t I said that the boat never came here?”</p> - -<p>“You have,” replied Thorndyke; “but if that is so, how do you explain -the fact that your pipe was found in the dead man’s pocket and that -the dead man’s pipe is at this moment in your pipe-rack?”</p> - -<p>The crimson flush on Jeffreys’ face faded as quickly as it had come. -“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he faltered.</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you,” said Thorndyke. “I will relate what happened and you -shall check my statements. Brown brought his boat alongside and came -up into the living-room, bringing his chest with him. He filled his -pipe and tried to light it, but it was stopped and wouldn’t draw. -Then you lent him a pipe of yours and filled it for him. Soon -afterwards you came out on this staging and quarrelled. Brown -defended himself with his knife, which dropped from his hand into the -boat. You pushed him off the staging and he fell, knocking his head -on one of the piles. Then you took the plug out of the boat and sent -her adrift to sink, and you flung the chest into the sea. This -happened about ten minutes past twelve. Am I right?”</p> - -<p>Jeffreys stood staring at Thorndyke, the picture of amazement and -consternation; but he uttered no word in reply.</p> - -<p>“Am I right?” Thorndyke repeated.</p> - -<p>“Strike me blind!” muttered Jeffreys. “Was you here, then? You talk -as if you had been. Anyhow,” he continued, recovering somewhat, “you -seem to know all about it. But you’re wrong about one thing. There -was no quarrel. This chap, Brown, didn’t take to me and he didn’t -mean to stay out here. He was going to put off and go ashore again -and I wouldn’t let him. Then he hit out at me with his knife and I -knocked it out of his hand and he staggered backwards and went -overboard.”</p> - -<p>“And did you try to pick him up?” asked the captain.</p> - -<p>“How could I,” demanded Jeffreys, “with the tide racing down and me -alone on the station? I’d never have got back.”</p> - -<p>“But what about the boat, Jeffreys? Why did you scuttle her?”</p> - -<p>“The fact is,” replied Jeffreys, “I got in a funk, and I thought the -simplest plan was to send her to the cellar and know nothing about -it. But I never shoved him over. It was an accident, sir; I swear it!”</p> - -<p>“Well, that sounds a reasonable explanation,” said the captain. “What -do you say, doctor?”</p> - -<p>“Perfectly reasonable,” replied Thorndyke, “and, as to its truth, -that is no affair of ours.”</p> - -<p>“No. But I shall have to take you off, Jeffreys, and hand you over to -the police. You understand that?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, I understand,” answered Jeffreys.</p> - -<p>“That was a queer case, that affair on the Girdler,” remarked Captain -Grumpass, when he was spending an evening with us some six months -later. “A pretty easy let off for Jeffreys, too—eighteen months, -wasn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it was a very queer case indeed,” said Thorndyke. “There was -something behind that ‘accident,’ I should say. Those men had -probably met before.”</p> - -<p>“So I thought,” agreed the captain. “But the queerest part of it to -me was the way you nosed it all out. I’ve had a deep respect for -briar pipes since then. It was a remarkable case,” he continued. “The -way in which you made that pipe tell the story of the murder seems to -me like sheer enchantment.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said I, “it spoke like the magic pipe—only that wasn’t a -tobacco-pipe—in the German folk-story of the ‘Singing Bone.’ Do you -remember it? A peasant found the bone of a murdered man and fashioned -it into a pipe. But when he tried to play on it, it burst into a song -of its own—</p> - -<p>‘My brother slew me and buried my bones Beneath the sand and under -the stones.’”</p> - -<p>“A pretty story,” said Thorndyke, “and one with an excellent moral. -The inanimate things around us have each of them a song to sing to us -if we are but ready with attentive ears.”</p> - -<hr> - -<h2 class="calibre12" id="toc4">A WASTREL’S ROMANCE</h2> - -<h3 class="calibre10" id="toc4_1">PART I</h3> - -<p class="calibre7">THE SPINSTERS’ GUEST</p> - -<p><span class="firstletter">T</span><span style="font-variant: small-caps">he</span> lingering summer twilight was fast merging into night as a -solitary cyclist, whose evening-dress suit was thinly disguised by an -overcoat, rode slowly along a pleasant country road. From time to -time he had been overtaken and passed by a carriage, a car or a -closed cab from the adjacent town, and from the festive garb of the -occupants he had made shrewd guesses at their destination. His own -objective was a large house, standing in somewhat extensive grounds -just off the road, and the peculiar circumstances that surrounded his -visit to it caused him to ride more and more slowly as he approached -his goal.</p> - -<p>Willowdale—such was the name of the house—was, to-night, witnessing -a temporary revival of its past glories. For many months it had been -empty and a notice-board by the gate-keeper’s lodge had silently -announced its forlorn state; but to-night, its rooms, their bare -walls clothed in flags and draperies, their floors waxed or carpeted, -would once more echo the sound of music and cheerful voices and -vibrate to the tread of many feet. For on this night the spinsters of -Raynesford were giving a dance; and chief amongst the spinsters was -Miss Halliwell, the owner of Willowdale.</p> - -<p>It was a great occasion. The house was large and imposing; the -spinsters were many and their purses were long. The guests were -numerous and distinguished, and included no less a person than Mrs. -Jehu B. Chater. This was the crowning triumph of the function, for -the beautiful American widow was the lion (or should we say lioness?) -of the season. Her wealth was, if not beyond the dreams of avarice, -at least beyond the powers of common British arithmetic, and her -diamonds were, at once, the glory and the terror of her hostesses.</p> - -<p>All these attractions notwithstanding, the cyclist approached the -vicinity of Willowdale with a slowness almost hinting at reluctance; -and when, at length, a curve of the road brought the gates into view, -he dismounted and halted irresolutely. He was about to do a rather -risky thing, and, though by no means a man of weak nerve, he -hesitated to make the plunge.</p> - -<p>The fact is, he had not been invited.</p> - -<p>Why, then, was he going? And how was he to gain admittance? To which -questions the answer involves a painful explanation.</p> - -<p>Augustus Bailey lived by his wits. That is the common phrase, and a -stupid phrase it is. For do we not all live by our wits, if we have -any? And does it need any specially brilliant wits to be a common -rogue? However, such as his wits were, Augustus Bailey lived by them, -and he had not hitherto made a fortune.</p> - -<p>The present venture arose out of a conversation overheard at a -restaurant table and an invitation-card carelessly laid down and -adroitly covered with the menu. Augustus had accepted the invitation -that he had not received (on a sheet of Hotel Cecil notepaper that he -had among his collection of stationery) in the name of Geoffrey -Harrington-Baillie; and the question that exercised his mind at the -moment was, would he or would he not be spotted? He had trusted to -the number of guests and the probable inexperience of the hostesses. -He knew that the cards need not be shown, though there was the -awkward ceremony of announcement.</p> - -<p>But perhaps it wouldn’t get as far as that. Probably not, if his -acceptance had been detected as emanating from an uninvited stranger.</p> - -<p>He walked slowly towards the gates with growing discomfort. Added to -his nervousness as to the present were certain twinges of -reminiscence. He had once held a commission in a line regiment—not -for long, indeed; his “wits” had been too much for his brother -officers—but there had been a time when he would have come to such a -gathering as this an invited guest. Now, a common thief, he was -sneaking in under a false name, with a fair prospect of being -ignominiously thrown out by the servants.</p> - -<p>As he stood hesitating, the sound of hoofs on the road was followed -by the aggressive bellow of a motor-horn. The modest twinkle of -carriage lamps appeared round the curve and then the glare of -acetylene headlights. A man came out of the lodge and drew open the -gates; and Mr. Bailey, taking his courage in both hands, boldly -trundled his machine up the drive.</p> - -<p>Half-way up—it was quite a steep incline—the car whizzed by; a -large Napier filled with a bevy of young men who economized space by -sitting on the backs of the seats and on one another’s knees. Bailey -looked at them and decided that this was his chance, and, pushing -forward, he saw his bicycle safely bestowed in the empty coach-house -and then hurried on to the cloak-room. The young men had arrived -there before him and, as he entered, were gaily peeling off their -over coats and flinging them down on a table. Bailey followed their -example, and, in his eagerness to enter the reception room with the -crowd, let his attention wander from the business of the moment, and, -as he pocketed the ticket and hurried away, he failed to notice that -the bewildered attendant had put his hat with another man’s coat and -affixed his duplicate to them both.</p> - -<p>“Major Podbury, Captain Barker-Jones, Captain Sparker, Mr. Watson, -Mr. Goldsmith, Mr. Smart, <span class="calibre15">Mr. Harrington Baillie!</span>’</p> - -<p>As Augustus swaggered up the room, hugging the party of officers and -quaking inwardly, he was conscious that his hostesses glanced from -one man to another with more than common interest.</p> - -<p>But at that moment the footman’s voice rang out, sonorous and clear—</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Chater, Colonel Crumpler!” and, as all eyes were turned towards -the new arrivals, Augustus made his bow and passed into the throng. -His little game of bluff had “come off,” after all.</p> - -<p>He withdrew modestly into the more crowded portion of the room, and -there took up a position where he would be shielded from the gaze of -his hostesses. Presently, he reflected, they would forget him, if -they had really thought about him at all, and then he would see what -could be done in the way of business. He was still rather shaky, and -wondered how soon it would be decent to steady his nerves with a -“refresher.” Meanwhile he kept a sharp look-out over the shoulders of -neighbouring guests, until a movement in the crowd of guests -disclosed Mrs. Chater shaking hands with the presiding spinster. Then -Augustus got a most uncommon surprise.</p> - -<p>He knew her at the first glance. He had a good memory for faces, and -Mrs. Chater’s face was one to remember. Well did he recall the frank -and lovely American girl with whom he had danced at the regimental -ball years ago. That was in the old days when he was a subaltern, and -before that little affair of the pricked court-cards that brought his -military career to an end. They had taken a mutual liking, he -remembered, that sweet-faced Yankee maid and he; had danced many -dances and had sat out others, to talk mystical nonsense which, in -their innocence, they had believed to be philosophy. He had never -seen her since. She had come into his life and gone out of it again, -and he had forgotten her name, if he had ever known it. But here she -was, middle aged now, it was true, but still beautiful and a great -personage withal. And, ye gods! what diamonds! And here was he, too, -a common rogue, lurking in the crowd that he might, perchance, snatch -a pendant or “pinch” a loose brooch.</p> - -<p>Perhaps she might recognize him. Why not? He had recognized her. But -that would never do. And thus reflecting, Mr. Bailey slipped out to -stroll on the lawn and smoke a cigarette. Another man, somewhat older -than himself, was pacing to and fro thoughtfully, glancing from time -to time through the open windows into the brilliantly-lighted rooms. -When they had passed once or twice, the stranger halted and addressed -him.</p> - -<p>“This is the best place on a night like this,” he remarked; “it’s -getting hot inside already. But perhaps you’re keen on dancing.”</p> - -<p>“Not so keen as I used to be,” replied Bailey; and then, observing -the hungry look that the other man was bestowing on his cigarette, he -produced his case and offered it.</p> - -<p>“Thanks awfully!” exclaimed the stranger, pouncing with avidity on -the open case. “Good Samaritan, by Jove. Left my case in my overcoat. -Hadn’t the cheek to ask, though I was starving for a smoke.” He -inhaled luxuriously, and, blowing out a cloud of smoke, resumed: -“These chits seem to be running the show pretty well, h’m? Wouldn’t -take it for an empty house to look at it, would you?”</p> - -<p>“I have hardly seen it,” said Bailey; “only just come, you know.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll have a look round, if you like,” said the genial stranger, -“when we’ve finished our smoke, that is. Have a drink too; may cool -us a bit. Know many people here?”</p> - -<p>“Not a soul,” replied Bailey. “My hostess doesn’t seem to have turned -up.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s easily remedied,” said the stranger. “My daughter’s one -of the spinsters—Granby, my name; when we’ve had a drink, I’ll make -her find you a partner—that is, if you care for the light fantastic.”</p> - -<p>“I should like a dance or two,” said Bailey, “though I’m getting a -bit past it now, I suppose. Still, it doesn’t do to chuck up the -sponge prematurely.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly not,” Granby agreed jovially; “a man’s as young as he -feels. Well, come and have a drink and then we’ll hunt up my little -girl.” The two men flung away the stumps of their cigarettes and -headed for the refreshments.</p> - -<p>The spinsters’ champagne was light, but it was well enough if taken -in sufficient quantity; a point to which Augustus—and Granby -too—paid judicious attention; and when he had supplemented the wine -with a few sandwiches, Mr. Bailey felt in notably better spirits. -For, to tell the truth, his diet, of late, had been somewhat meagre. -Miss Granby, when found, proved to be a blonde and guileless -“flapper” of some seventeen summers, childishly eager to play her -part of hostess with due dignity; and presently Bailey found himself -gyrating through the eddying crowd in company with a comely matron of -thirty or thereabouts.</p> - -<p>The sensations that this novel experience aroused rather took him by -surprise. For years past he had been living a precarious life of mean -and sordid shifts that oscillated between mere shabby trickery and -downright crime; now conducting a paltry swindle just inside the pale -of the law, and now, when hard pressed, descending to actual theft; -consorting with shady characters, swindlers and knaves and scurvy -rogues like himself; gambling, borrowing, cadging and, if need be, -stealing, and always slinking abroad with an apprehensive eye upon -“the man in blue.”</p> - -<p>And now, amidst the half-forgotten surroundings, once so familiar; -the gaily-decorated rooms, the rhythmic music, the twinkle of jewels, -the murmur of gliding feet and the rustle of costly gowns, the moving -vision of honest gentlemen and fair ladies; the shameful years seemed -to drop away and leave him to take up the thread of his life where it -had snapped so disastrously. After all, these were his own people. -The seedy knaves in whose steps he had walked of late were but aliens -met by the way.</p> - -<p>He surrendered his partner, in due course, with regret—which was -mutual—to an inarticulate subaltern, and was meditating another -pilgrimage to the refreshment-room, when he felt a light touch upon -his arm. He turned swiftly. A touch on the arm meant more to him than -to some men. But it was no wooden-faced plain-clothes man that he -confronted; it was only a lady. In short, it was Mrs. Chater, smiling -nervously and a little abashed by her own boldness.</p> - -<p>“I expect you’ve forgotten me,” she began apologetically, but -Augustus interrupted her with an eager disclaimer.</p> - -<p>“Of course I haven’t,” he said; “though I have forgotten your name, -but I remember that Portsmouth dance as well as if it were yesterday; -at least one incident in it—the only one that was worth remembering. -I’ve often hoped that I might meet you again, and now, at last, it -has happened.”</p> - -<p>“It’s nice of you to remember,” she rejoined. “I’ve often and often -thought of that evening and all the wonderful things that we talked -about. You were a nice boy then; I wonder what you are like now. What -a long time ago it is!”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” Augustus agreed gravely, “it <span class="calibre15">is</span> a long time. I know it -myself; but when I look at you, it seems as if it could only have -been last season.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, fie!” she exclaimed. “You are not simple as you used to be. You -didn’t flatter then; but perhaps there wasn’t the need.” She spoke -with gentle reproach, but her pretty face flushed with pleasure -nevertheless, and there was a certain wistfulness in the tone of her -concluding sentence.</p> - -<p>“I wasn’t flattering,” Augustus replied, quite sincerely; “I knew you -directly you entered the room and marvelled that Time had been so -gentle with you. He hasn’t been as kind to me.”</p> - -<p>“No. You have gotten a few grey hairs, I see, but after all, what are -grey hairs to a man? Just the badges of rank, like the crown on your -collar or the lace on your cuffs, to mark the steps of your -promotion—for I guess you’ll be a colonel by now.”</p> - -<p>“No,” Augustus answered quickly, with a faint flush, “I left the army -some years ago.”</p> - -<p>“My! what a pity!” exclaimed Mrs. Chater. “You must tell me all about -it—but not now. My partner will be looking for me. We will sit out a -dance and have a real gossip. But I’ve forgotten your name—never -could recall it, in fact, though that didn’t prevent me from -remembering you; but, as our dear W. S. remarks, ‘What’s in a name?’”</p> - -<p>“Ah, indeed,” said Mr. Harrington-Baillie; and apropos of that -sentiment, he added: “Mine is Rowland—Captain Rowland. You may -remember it now.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Chater did not, however, and said so. “Will number six do?” she -asked, opening her programme; and, when Augustus had assented, she -entered his provisional name, remarking complacently: “We’ll sit out -and have a right-down good talk, and you shall tell me all about -yourself and if you still think the same about free-will and personal -responsibility. You had very lofty ideals, I remember, in those days, -and I hope you have still. But one’s ideals get rubbed down rather -faint in the friction of life. Don’t you think so?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I am afraid you’re right,” Augustus assented gloomily. “The -wear and tear of life soon fetches the gilt off the gingerbread. -Middle age is apt to find us a bit patchy, not to say naked.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t be pessimistic,” said Mrs. Chater; “that is the attitude -of the disappointed idealist, and I am sure you have no reason, -really, to be disappointed in yourself. But I must run away now. -Think over all the things you have to tell me, and don’t forget that -it is number six.” With a bright smile and a friendly nod she sailed -away, a vision of glittering splendour, compared with which Solomon -in all his glory was a mere matter of commonplace bullion.</p> - -<p>The interview, evidently friendly and familiar, between the unknown -guest and the famous American widow had by no means passed unnoticed; -and in other circumstances, Bailey might have endeavoured to profit -by the reflected glory that enveloped him. But he was not in search -of notoriety; and the same evasive instinct that had led him to sink -Mr. Harrington-Baillie in Captain Rowland, now advised him to -withdraw his dual personality from the vulgar gaze. He had come here -on very definite business. For the hundredth time he was -“stony-broke,” and it was the hope of picking up some “unconsidered -trifles” that had brought him. But, somehow, the atmosphere of the -place had proved unfavourable. Either opportunities were lacking or -he failed to seize them. In any case, the game pocket that formed an -unconventional feature of his dress-coat was still empty, and it -looked as if a pleasant evening and a good supper were all that he -was likely to get. Nevertheless, be his conduct never so blameless, -the fact remained that he was an uninvited guest, liable at any -moment to be ejected as an impostor, and his recognition by the widow -had not rendered this possibility any the more remote.</p> - -<p>He strayed out onto the lawn, whence the grounds fell away on all -sides. But there were other guests there, cooling themselves after -the last dance, and the light from the rooms streamed through the -windows, illuminating their figures, and among them, that of the -too-companionable Granby. Augustus quickly drew away from the lighted -area, and, chancing upon a narrow path, strolled away along it in the -direction of a copse or shrubbery that he saw ahead. Presently he -came to an ivy-covered arch, lighted by one or two fairy lamps, and, -passing through this, he entered a winding path, bordered by trees -and shrubs and but faintly lighted by an occasional coloured lamp -suspended from a branch.</p> - -<p>Already he was quite clear of the crowd; indeed, the deserted -condition of the pleasant retreat rather surprised him, until he -reflected that to couples desiring seclusion there were whole ranges -of untenanted rooms and galleries available in the empty house.</p> - -<p>The path sloped gently downwards for some distance; then came a long -flight of rustic steps and, at the bottom, a seat between two trees. -In front of the seat the path extended in a straight line, forming a -narrow terrace; on the right the ground sloped up steeply towards the -lawn; on the left it fell away still more steeply towards the -encompassing wall of the grounds; and on both sides it was covered -with trees and shrubs.</p> - -<p>Bailey sat down on the seat to think over the account of himself that -he should present to Mrs. Chater. It was a comfortable seat, built -into the trunk of an elm, which formed one end and part of the back. -He leaned against the tree, and, taking out his silver case, selected -a cigarette. But it remained unlighted between his fingers as he sat -and meditated upon his unsatisfactory past and the melancholy tale of -what might have been. Fresh from the atmosphere of refined opulence -that pervaded the dancing-rooms, the throng of well-groomed men and -dainty women, his mind travelled back to his sordid little flat in -Bermondsey, encompassed by poverty and squalor, jostled by lofty -factories, grimy with the smoke of the river and the reek from the -great chimneys. It was a hideous contrast. Verily the way of the -transgressor was not strewn with flowers.</p> - -<p>At that point in his meditations he caught the sound of voices and -footsteps on the path above and rose to walk on along the path. He -did not wish to be seen wandering alone in the shrubbery. But now a -woman’s laugh sounded from somewhere down the path. There were people -approaching that way too. He put the cigarette back in the case and -stepped round behind the seat, intending to retreat in that -direction, but here the path ended, and beyond was nothing but a -rugged slope down to the wall thickly covered with bushes. And while -he was hesitating, the sound of feet descending the steps and the -rustle of a woman’s dress left him to choose between staying where he -was or coming out to confront the newcomers. He chose the former, -drawing up close behind the tree to wait until they should have -passed on.</p> - -<p>But they were not going to pass on. One of them—a woman—sat down on -the seat, and then a familiar voice smote on his ear. “I guess I’ll -rest here quietly for a while; this tooth of mine is aching terribly; -and, see here, I want you to go and fetch me something. Take this -ticket to the cloak-room and tell the woman to give you my little -velvet bag. You’ll find in it a bottle of chloroform and a packet of -cotton-wool.”</p> - -<p>“But I can’t leave you here all alone, Mrs. Chater,” her partner -expostulated.</p> - -<p>“I’m not hankering for society just now,” said Mrs. Chater. “I want -that chloroform. Just you hustle off and fetch it, like a good boy. -Here’s the ticket.”</p> - -<p>The young officer’s footsteps retreated rapidly, and the voices of -the couple advancing along the path grew louder. Bailey, cursing the -chance that had placed him in his ridiculous and uncomfortable -position, heard them approach and pass on up the steps; and then all -was silent, save for an Occasional moan from Mrs. Chater and the -measured creaking of the seat as she rocked uneasily to and fro. But -the young man was uncommonly prompt in the discharge of his mission, -and in a very few minutes Bailey heard him approaching at a run along -the path above and then bounding down the steps.</p> - -<p>“Now I call that real good of you,” said the widow gratefully. “You -must have run like the wind. Cut the string of the packet and then -leave me to wrestle with this tooth.”</p> - -<p>“But I can’t leave you here all——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you can,” interrupted Mrs. Chater. “There won’t be any one -about—the next dance is a waltz. Besides, you must go and find your -partner.”</p> - -<p>“Well, if you’d really rather be alone,” the subaltern began; but -Mrs. Chater interrupted him.</p> - -<p>“Of course I would, when I’m fixing up my teeth. Now go along, and a -thousand thanks for your kindness.”</p> - -<p>With mumbled protestations the young officer slowly retired, and -Bailey heard his reluctant feet ascending the steps. Then a deep -silence fell on the place in which the rustle of paper and the squeak -of a withdrawn cork seemed loud and palpable. Bailey had turned with -his face towards the tree, against which he leaned with his lips -parted scarcely daring to breathe. He cursed himself again and again -for having thus entrapped himself for no tangible reason, and longed -to get away. But there was no escape now without betraying himself. -He must wait for the woman to go.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, beyond the edge of the tree, a hand appeared holding an -open packet of cotton-wool. It laid the wool down on the seat, and, -pinching off a fragment, rolled it into a tiny ball. The fingers of -the hand were encircled by rings, its wrist enclosed by a broad -bracelet; and from rings and bracelet the light of the solitary -fairy-lamp, that hung from a branch of the tree, was reflected in -prismatic sparks. The hand was withdrawn and Bailey stared dreamily -at the square pad of cotton-wool. Then the hand came again into view. -This time it held a small phial which it laid softly on the seat, -setting the cork beside it. And again the light flashed in -many-coloured scintillations from the encrusting gems.</p> - -<p>Bailey’s knees began to tremble, and a chilly moisture broke out upon -his forehead.</p> - -<p>The hand drew back, but, as it vanished, Bailey moved his head -silently until his face emerged from behind the tree. The woman was -leaning back, her head resting against the trunk only a few inches -away from his face. The great stones of the tiara flashed in his very -eyes. Over her shoulder, he could even see the gorgeous pendant, -rising and falling on her bosom with ever-changing fires; and both -her raised hands were a mass of glitter and sparkle, only the deeper -and richer for the subdued light.</p> - -<p>His heart throbbed with palpable blows that drummed aloud in his -ears. The sweat trickled clammily down his face, and he clenched his -teeth to keep them from chattering. An agony of horror—of deadly -fear—was creeping over him—a terror of the dreadful impulse that -was stealing away his reason and his will.</p> - -<p>The silence was profound. The woman’s soft breathing, the creak of -her bodice, were plainly—grossly—audible; and he checked his own -breath until he seemed on the verge of suffocation.</p> - -<p>Of a sudden through the night air was borne faintly the dreamy music -of a waltz. The dance had begun. The distant sound but deepened the -sense of solitude in this deserted spot.</p> - -<p>Bailey listened intently. He yearned to escape from the invisible -force that seemed to be clutching at his wrists, and dragging him -forward inexorably to his doom.</p> - -<p>He gazed down at the woman with a horrid fascination. He struggled to -draw back out of sight—and struggled in vain.</p> - -<p>Then, at last, with a horrible, stealthy deliberation, a clammy, -shaking hand crept forward towards the seat. Without a sound it -grasped the wool, and noiselessly, slowly drew back. Again it stole -forth. The fingers twined snakily around the phial, lifted it from -the seat and carried it back into the shadow.</p> - -<p>After a few seconds it reappeared and softly replaced the bottle—now -half empty. There was a brief pause. The measured cadences of the -waltz stole softly through the quiet night and seemed to keep time -with the woman’s breathing. Other sound there was none. The place was -wrapped in the silence of the grave.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, from the hiding-place, Bailey leaned forward over the back -of the seat. The pad of cotton-wool was in his hand.</p> - -<p>The woman was now leaning back as if dozing, and her hands rested in -her lap. There was a swift movement. The pad was pressed against her -face and her head dragged back against the chest of the invisible -assailant. A smothered gasp burst from her hidden lips as her hands -flew up to clutch at the murderous arm; and then came a frightful -struggle, made even more frightful by the gay and costly trappings of -the writhing victim. And still there was hardly a sound; only muffled -gasps, the rustle of silk, the creaking of the seat, the clink of the -falling bottle and, afar off, with dreadful irony, the dreamy murmur -of the waltz.</p> - -<p>The struggle was but brief. Quite suddenly the jewelled hands -dropped, the head lay resistless on the crumpled shirt-front, and the -body, now limp and inert, began to slip forward off the seat. Bailey, -still grasping the passive head, climbed over the back of the seat -and, as the woman slid gently to the ground, he drew away the pad and -stooped over her. The struggle was over now; the mad fury of the -moment was passing swiftly into the chill of mortal fear.</p> - -<p>He stared with incredulous horror into the swollen face, but now so -comely, the sightless eyes that but a little while since had smiled -into his with such kindly recognition.</p> - -<p>He had done this! He, the sneaking wastrel, discarded of all the -world, to whom this sweet woman had held out the hand of friendship. -She had cherished his memory, when to all others he was sunk deep -under the waters of oblivion. And he had killed her—for to his ear -no breath of life seemed to issue from those purple lips.</p> - -<p>A sudden hideous compunction for this irrevocable thing that he had -done surged through him, and he stood up clutching at his damp hair -with a hoarse cry that was like the cry of the damned.</p> - -<p>The jewels passed straightaway out of his consciousness. Everything -was forgotten now but the horror of this unspeakable thing that he -had done. Remorse incurable and haunting fear were all that were left -to him.</p> - -<p>The sound of voices far away along the path aroused him, and the -vague horror that possessed him materialized into abject bodily fear. -He lifted the limp body to the edge of the path and let it slip down -the steep declivity among the bushes. A soft, shuddering sigh came -from the parted lips as the body turned over, and he paused a moment -to listen. But there was no other sound of life. Doubtless that sigh -was only the result of the passive movement.</p> - -<p>Again he stood for an instant as one in a dream, gazing at the -huddled shape half hidden by the bushes, before he climbed back to -the path; and even then he looked back once more, but now she was -hidden from sight. And, as the voices drew nearer, he turned, and ran -up the rustic steps.</p> - -<p>As he came out on the edge of the lawn the music ceased, and, almost -immediately, a stream of people issued from the house. Shaken as he -was, Bailey yet had wits enough left to know that his clothes and -hair were disordered and that his appearance must be wild. -Accordingly he avoided the dancers, and, keeping to the margin of the -lawn, made his way to the cloak-room by the least frequented route. -If he had dared, he would have called in at the refreshment-room, for -he was deadly faint and his limbs shook as he walked. But a haunting -fear pursued him and, indeed, grew from moment to moment. He found -himself already listening for the rumour of the inevitable discovery.</p> - -<p>He staggered into the cloak-room, and, flinging his ticket down on -the table, dragged out his watch. The attendant looked at him -curiously and, pausing with the ticket in his hand, asked -sympathetically: “Not feeling very well, sir?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Bailey. “So beastly hot in there.”</p> - -<p>“You ought to have a glass of champagne, sir, before you start,” said -the man.</p> - -<p>“No time,” replied Bailey, holding out a shaky hand for his coat. -“Shall lose my train if I’m not sharp.”</p> - -<p>At this hint the attendant reached down the coat and hat, holding up -the former for its owner to slip his arms into the sleeves. But -Bailey snatched it from him, and, flinging it over his arm, put on -his hat and hurried away to the coach-house. Here, again, the -attendant stared at him in astonishment, which was not lessened when -Bailey, declining his offer to help him on with his coat, bundled the -latter under his arm, clicked the lever of the “variable” on to the -ninety gear, sprang onto the machine and whirled away down the steep -drive, a grotesque vision of flying coat-tails.</p> - -<p>“You haven’t lit your lamp, sir,” roared the attendant; but Bailey’s -ears were deaf to all save the clamour of the expected pursuit.</p> - -<p>Fortunately the drive entered the road obliquely, or Bailey must have -been flung into the opposite hedge. As it was, the machine, rushing -down the slope, flew out into the road with terrific velocity; nor -did its speed diminish then, for its rider, impelled by mortal -terror, trod the pedals with the fury of a madman. And still, as the -machine whizzed along the dark and silent road, his ears were -strained to catch the clatter of hoofs or the throb of a motor from -behind.</p> - -<p>He knew the country well, in fact, as a precaution, he had cycled -over the district only the day before; and he was ready, at any -suspicious sound, to slip down any of the lanes or byways, secure of -finding his way. But still he sped on, and still no sound from the -rear came to tell him of the dread discovery.</p> - -<p>When he had ridden about three miles, he came to the foot of a steep -hill. Here he had to dismount and push his machine up the incline, -which he did at such speed that he arrived at the top quite -breathless. Before mounting again he determined to put on his coat, -for his appearance was calculated to attract attention, if nothing -more. It was only half-past eleven, and presently he would pass -through the streets of a small town. Also he would light his lamp. It -would be fatal to be stopped by a patrol or rural constable.</p> - -<p>Having lit his lamp and hastily put on his coat he once more listened -intently, looking back over the country that was darkly visible from -the summit of the hill. No moving lights were to be seen, no ringing -hoofs or throbbing engines to be heard, and, turning to mount, he -instinctively felt in his overcoat pocket for his gloves.</p> - -<p>A pair of gloves came out in his hand, but he was instantly conscious -that they were not his. A silk muffler was there also; a white one. -But his muffler was black.</p> - -<p>With a sudden shock of terror he thrust his hand into the -ticket-pocket, where he had put his latch-key. There was no key -there; only an amber cigar-holder, which he had never seen before. He -stood for a few moments in utter consternation. He had taken the -wrong coat. Then he had left his own coat behind. A cold sweat of -fear broke out afresh on his face as he realized this. His Yale -latch-key was in its pocket; not that that mattered very much. He had -a duplicate at home, and, as to getting in, well, he knew his own -outside door and his tool-bag contained one or two trifles not -usually found in cyclists’ tool-bags. The question was whether that -coat contained anything that could disclose his identity. And then -suddenly he remembered, with a gasp of relief, that he had carefully -turned the pockets out before starting.</p> - -<p>No; once let him attain the sanctuary of his grimy little flat, -wedged in as it was between the great factories by the river-side, -and he would be safe: safe from everything but the horror of himself, -and the haunting vision of a jewelled figure huddled up in a silken -heap beneath the bushes.</p> - -<p>With a last look round he mounted his machine, and, driving it over -the brow of the hill, swept away into the darkness.</p> - -<h3 class="calibre10" id="toc4_2">PART II</h3> - -<p class="calibre7">MUNERA PULVERIS</p> - -<p class="related">(Related by Christopher Jervis, M.D.)</p> - -<p><span class="firstletter">I</span><span style="font-variant: small-caps">t</span> is one of the drawbacks of medicine as a profession that one is -never rid of one’s responsibilities. The merchant, the lawyer, the -civil servant, each at the appointed time locks up his desk, puts on -his hat and goes forth a free man with an interval of uninterrupted -leisure before him. Not so the doctor. Whether at work or at play, -awake or asleep, he is the servant of humanity, at the instant -disposal of friend or stranger alike whose need may make the -necessary claim.</p> - -<p>When I agreed to accompany my wife to the spinsters’ dance at -Raynesford, I imagined that, for that evening, at least, I was -definitely off duty; and in that belief I continued until the -conclusion of the eighth dance. To be quite truthful, I was not sorry -when the delusion was shattered. My last partner was a young lady of -a slanginess of speech that verged on the inarticulate. Now it is not -easy to exchange ideas in “pidgin” English; and the conversation of a -person to whom all things are either “ripping” or “rotten” is apt to -lack subtlety. In fact, I was frankly bored; and, reflecting on the -utility of the humble sandwich as an aid to conversation, I was about -to entice my partner to the refreshment room when I felt some one -pluck at my sleeve. I turned quickly and looked into the anxious and -rather frightened face of my wife.</p> - -<p>“Miss Halliwell is looking for you,” she said. “A lady has been taken -ill. Will you come and see what is the matter?” She took my arm and, -when I had made my apologies to my partner, she hurried me on to the -lawn.</p> - -<p>“It’s a mysterious affair,” my wife continued. “The sick lady is a -Mrs. Chater, a very wealthy American widow. Edith Halliwell and Major -Podbury found her lying in the shrubbery all alone and unable to give -any account of herself. Poor Edith is dreadfully upset. She doesn’t -know what to think.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” I began; but at this moment Miss Halliwell, who -was waiting by an ivy-covered rustic arch, espied us and ran forward.</p> - -<p>“Oh, do hurry, please, Dr. Jervis,” she exclaimed; “such a shocking -thing has happened. Has Juliet told you?” Without waiting for an -answer, she darted through the arch and preceded us along a narrow -path at the curious, flat-footed, shambling trot common to most adult -women. Presently we descended a flight of rustic steps which brought -us to a seat, from whence extended a straight path cut like a -miniature terrace on a steep slope, with a high bank rising to the -right and declivity falling away to the left. Down in the hollow, his -head and shoulders appearing above the bushes, was a man holding in -his hand a fairy-lamp that he had apparently taken down from a tree. -I climbed down to him, and, as I came round the bushes, I perceived a -richly-dressed woman lying huddled on the ground. She was not -completely insensible, for she moved slightly at my approach, -muttering a few words in thick, indistinct accents. I took the lamp -from the man, whom I assumed to be Major Podbury, and, as he -delivered it to me with a significant glance and a faint lift of the -eyebrows, I understood Miss Halliwell’s agitation.</p> - -<p>Indeed, for one horrible moment I thought that she was right—that -the prostrate woman was intoxicated. But when I approached nearer, -the flickering light of the lamp made visible a square reddened patch -on her face, like the impression of a mustard plaster, covering the -nose and mouth; and then I scented mischief of a more serious kind.</p> - -<p>“We had better carry her up to the seat,” I said, handing the lamp to -Miss Halliwell. “Then we can consider moving her to the house.” The -major and I lifted the helpless woman and, having climbed cautiously -up to the path, laid her on the seat.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Dr. Jervis?” Miss Halliwell whispered.</p> - -<p>“I can’t say at the moment,” I replied; “but it’s not what you -feared.”</p> - -<p>“Thank God for that!” was her fervent rejoinder. “It would have been -a shocking scandal.”</p> - -<p>I took the dim lamp and once more bent over the half-conscious woman. -Her appearance puzzled me not a little. She looked like a person -recovering from an anaesthetic, but the square red patch on her face, -recalling, as it did, the Burke murders, rather suggested -suffocation. As I was thus reflecting, the light of the lamp fell on -a white object lying on the ground behind the seat, and holding the -lamp forward, I saw that it was a square pad of cotton-wool. The -coincidence of its shape and size with that of the red patch on the -woman’s face instantly struck me, and I stooped down to pick it up; -and then I saw, lying under the seat, a small bottle. This also I -picked up and held in the lamplight. It was a one-ounce phial, quite -empty, and was labelled “Methylated Chloroform.” Here seemed to be a -complete explanation of the thick utterance and drunken aspect; but -it was an explanation that required, in its turn, to be explained. -Obviously no robbery had been committed, for the woman literally -glittered with diamonds. Equally obviously she had not administered -the chloroform to herself.</p> - -<p>There was nothing for it but to carry her indoors and await her -further recovery, so, with the major’s help, we conveyed her through -the shrubbery and kitchen garden to a side door, and deposited her on -a sofa in a half-furnished room.</p> - -<p>Here, under the influence of water dabbed on her face and the -plentiful use of smelling salts, she quickly revived, and was soon -able to give an intelligible account of herself.</p> - -<p>The chloroform and cotton-wool were her own. She had used them for an -aching tooth; and she was sitting alone on the seat with the bottle -and the wool beside her when the incomprehensible thing had happened. -Without a moment’s warning a hand had come from behind her and -pressed the pad of wool over her nose and mouth. The wool was -saturated with chloroform, and she had lost consciousness almost -immediately.</p> - -<p>“You didn’t see the person, then?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“No, but I know he was in evening dress, because I felt my head -against his shirt-front.”</p> - -<p>“Then,” said I, “he is either here still or he has been to the -cloak-room. He couldn’t have left the place without an overcoat.”</p> - -<p>“No, by Jove!” exclaimed the major; “that’s true. I’ll go and make -inquiries.” He strode away all agog, and I, having satisfied myself -that Mrs. Chater could be left safely, followed him almost -immediately.</p> - -<p>I made my way straight to the cloak-room, and here I found the major -and one or two of his brother officers putting on their coats in a -flutter of gleeful excitement.</p> - -<p>“He’s gone,” said Podbury, struggling frantically into his overcoat; -“went off nearly an hour ago on a bicycle. Seemed in a deuce of a -stew, the attendant says, and no wonder. We’re goin’ after him in our -car. Care to join the hunt?”</p> - -<p>“No, thanks. I must stay with the patient. But how do you know you’re -after the right man?”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t any other. Only one Johnnie’s left. Besides—here, confound -it! you’ve given me the wrong coat!” He tore off the garment and -handed it back to the attendant, who regarded it with an expression -of dismay.</p> - -<p>“Are you sure, sir?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Perfectly,” said the major. “Come, hurry up, my man.”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid, sir,” said the attendant, “that the gentleman who has -gone has taken your coat. They were on the same peg, I know. I am -very sorry, sir.”</p> - -<p>The major was speechless with wrath. What the devil was the good of -being sorry; and how the deuce was he to get his coat back?</p> - -<p>“But,” I interposed, “if the stranger has got your coat, then this -coat must be his.”</p> - -<p>“I know,” said Podbury; “but I don’t want his beastly coat.”</p> - -<p>“No,” I replied, “but it may be useful for identification.”</p> - -<p>This appeared to afford the bereaved officer little consolation, but -as the car was now ready, he bustled away, and I, having directed the -man to put the coat away in a safe place, went back to my patient.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Chater was by now fairly recovered, and had developed a highly -vindictive interest in her late assailant. She even went so far as to -regret that he had not taken at least some of her diamonds, so that -robbery might have been added to the charge of attempted murder, and -expressed the earnest hope that the officers would not be foolishly -gentle in their treatment of him when they caught him.</p> - -<p>“By the way, Dr. Jervis,” said Miss Halliwell, “I think I ought to -mention a rather curious thing that happened in connection with this -dance. We received an acceptance from a Mr. Harrington-Baillie, who -wrote from the Hotel Cecil. Now I am certain that no such name was -proposed by any of the spinsters.”</p> - -<p>“But didn’t you ask them?” I inquired.</p> - -<p>“Well, the fact is,” she replied, “that one of them, Miss Waters, had -to go abroad suddenly, and we had not got her address; and as it was -possible that she might have invited him, I did not like to move in -the matter. I am very sorry I didn’t now. We may have let in a -regular criminal—though why he should have wanted to murder Mrs. -Chater I cannot imagine.”</p> - -<p>It was certainly a mysterious affair, and the mystery was in no wise -dispelled by the return of the search party an hour later. It seemed -that the bicycle had been tracked for a couple of miles towards -London, but then, at the cross-roads, the tracks had become -hopelessly mixed with the impressions of other machines and the -officers, after cruising about vaguely for a while, had given up the -hunt and returned.</p> - -<p>“You see, Mrs. Chater,” Major Podbury explained apologetically, “the -fellow must have had a good hour’s start, and that would have brought -him pretty close to London.”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean to tell me,” exclaimed Mrs. Chater, regarding the major -with hardly-concealed contempt, “that that villain has got off -scot-free?”</p> - -<p>“Looks rather like it,” replied Podbury, “but if I were you I should -get the man’s description from the attendants who saw him and go up -to Scotland Yard tomorrow. They may know the Johnny there, and they -may even recognize the coat if you take it with you.”</p> - -<p>“That doesn’t seem very likely,” said Mrs. Chater, and it certainly -did not; but since no better plan could be suggested the lady decided -to adopt it; and I supposed that I had heard the last of the matter.</p> - -<p>In this, however, I was mistaken. On the following day, just before -noon, as I was drowsily considering the points in a brief dealing -with a question of survivorship, while Thorndyke drafted his weekly -lecture, a smart rat-tat at the door of our chambers announced a -visitor. I rose wearily—I had had only four hours’ sleep—and opened -the door, whereupon there sailed into the room no less a person than -Mrs. Chater, followed by Superintendent Miller, with a grin on his -face and a brown-paper parcel under his arm.</p> - -<p>The lady was not in the best of tempers, though wonderfully lively -and alert considering the severe shock that she had suffered so -recently, and her disapproval of Miller was frankly obvious.</p> - -<p>“Dr. Jervis has probably told you about the attempt to murder me last -night,” she said, when I had introduced her to my colleague. “Well, -now, will you believe it? I have been to the police, I have given -them a description of the murderous villain, and I have even shown -them the very coat that he wore, and they tell me that nothing can be -done. That, in short, this scoundrel must be allowed to go his way -free and unmolested.”</p> - -<p>“You will observe, doctor,” said Miller, “that this lady has given us -a description that would apply to fifty per cent. of the middle-class -men of the United Kingdom, and has shown us a coat without a single -identifying mark of any kind on it, and expects us to lay our hands -on the owner without a solitary clue to guide us. Now we are not -sorcerers at the Yard; we’re only policemen. So I have taken the -liberty of referring Mrs. Chater to you.” He grinned maliciously and -laid the parcel on the table.</p> - -<p>“And what do you want me to do?” Thorndyke asked quietly.</p> - -<p>“Why sir,” said Miller, “there is a coat. In the pockets were a pair -of gloves, a muffler, a box of matches, a tram-ticket and a Yale key. -Mrs. Chater would like to know whose coat it is.” He untied the -parcel with his eye cocked at our rather disconcerted client, and -Thorndyke watched him with a faint Smile.</p> - -<p>“This is very kind of you, Miller,” said he, “but I think a -clairvoyant would be more to your purpose.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent instantly dropped his facetious manner.</p> - -<p>“Seriously, sir,” he said, “I should be glad if you would take a look -at the coat. We have absolutely nothing to go on, and yet we don’t -want to give up the case. I have gone through it most thoroughly and -can’t find any clue to guide us. Now I know that nothing escapes you, -and perhaps you might notice something that I have overlooked; -something that would give us a hint where to start on our inquiry. -Couldn’t you turn the microscope on it, for instance?” he added, with -a deprecating smile.</p> - -<p>Thorndyke reflected, with an inquisitive eye on the coat. I saw that -the problem was not without its attractions to him; and when the lady -seconded Miller’s request with persuasive eagerness, the inevitable -consequence followed.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” he said. “Leave the coat with me for an hour or so and I -will look it over. I am afraid there is not the remotest chance of -our learning anything from it, but even so, the examination will have -done no harm. Come back at two o’clock; I shall be ready to report my -failure by then.”</p> - -<p>He bowed our visitors out and, returning to the table, looked down -with a quizzical smile on the coat and the large official envelope -containing articles from the pockets.</p> - -<p>“And what does my learned brother suggest?” he asked, looking up at -me.</p> - -<p>“I should look at the tram-ticket first,” I replied, “and then—well, -Miller’s suggestion wasn’t such a bad one; to explore the surface -with the microscope.”</p> - -<p>“I think we will take the latter measure first,” said he. “The -tram-ticket might create a misleading bias. A man may take a tram -anywhere, whereas the indoor dust on a man’s coat appertains mostly -to a definite locality.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I replied; “but the information that it yields is excessively -vague.”</p> - -<p>“That is true,” he agreed, taking up the coat and envelope to carry -them to the laboratory, “and yet, you know, Jervis, as I have often -pointed out, the evidential value of dust is apt to be -under-estimated. The naked-eye appearances—which are the normal -appearances—are misleading. Gather the dust, say, from a table-top, -and what have you? A fine powder of a characterless grey, just like -any other dust from any other table-top. But, under the microscope, -this grey powder is resolved into recognizable fragments of definite -substances, which fragments may often be traced with certainty to the -masses from which they have been detached. But you know all this as -well as I do.”</p> - -<p>“I quite appreciate the value of dust as evidence in certain -circumstances,” I replied, “but surely the information that could be -gathered from dust on the coat of an unknown man must be too general -to be of any use in tracing the owner.”</p> - -<p>“I am afraid you are right,” said Thorndyke, laying the coat on the -laboratory bench; “but we shall soon see, if Polton will let us have -his patent dust-extractor.”</p> - -<p>The little apparatus to which my colleague referred was the invention -of our ingenious laboratory assistant, and resembled in principle the -“vacuum cleaners” used for restoring carpets. It had, however, one -special feature: the receiver was made to admit a microscope-slide, -and on this the dust laden air was delivered from a jet.</p> - -<p>The “extractor” having been clamped to the bench by its proud -inventor, and a wetted slide introduced into the receiver, Thorndyke -applied the nozzle of the instrument to the collar of the coat while -Polton worked the pump. The slide was then removed and, another -having been substituted, the nozzle was applied to the right sleeve -near the shoulder, and the exhauster again worked by Polton. By -repeating this process, half-a-dozen slides were obtained charged -with dust from different parts of the garment, and then, setting up -our respective microscopes, we proceeded to examine the samples.</p> - -<p>A very brief inspection showed me that this dust contained matter not -usually met with—at any rate, in appreciable quantities. There were, -of course, the usual fragments of wool, cotton and other fibres -derived from clothing and furniture, particles of straw, husk, hair, -various mineral particles and, in fact, the ordinary constituents of -dust from clothing. But, in addition to these, and in much greater -quantity, were a number of other bodies, mostly of vegetable origin -and presenting well-defined characters in considerable variety, and -especially abundant were various starch granules.</p> - -<p>I glanced at Thorndyke and observed he was already busy with a pencil -and a slip of paper, apparently making a list of the objects visible -in the field of the microscope. I hastened to follow his example, and -for a time we worked on in silence. At length my colleague leaned -back in his chair and read over his list.</p> - -<p>“This is a highly interesting collection, Jervis,” he remarked. “What -do you find on your slides out of the ordinary?”</p> - -<p>“I have quite a little museum here,” I replied, referring to my list. -“There is, of course, chalk from the road at Raynesford. In addition -to this I find various starches, principally wheat and rice, -especially rice, fragments of the cortices of several seeds, several -different stone-cells, some yellow masses that look like turmeric, -black pepper resin-cells, one ‘port wine’ pimento cell, and one or -two particles of graphite.”</p> - -<p>“Graphite!” exclaimed Thorndyke. “I have found no graphite, but I -have found traces of cocoa—spiral vessels and starch grains—and of -hops—one fragment of leaf and several lupulin glands. May I see the -graphite?”</p> - -<p>I passed him the slide and he examined it with keen interest. “Yes,” -he said, “this is undoubtedly graphite, and no less than six -particles of it. We had better go over the coat systematically. You -see the importance of this?”</p> - -<p>“I see that this is evidently factory dust and that it may fix a -locality, but I don’t see that it will carry us any farther.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t forget that we have a touchstone,” said he; and, as I raised -my eyebrows inquiringly, he added, “The Yale latch-key. If we can -narrow the locality down sufficiently, Miller can make a tour of the -front doors.”</p> - -<p>“But can we?” I asked incredulously. “I doubt it.”</p> - -<p>“We can try,” answered Thorndyke. “Evidently some of the substances -are distributed over the entire coat, inside and out, while others, -such as the graphite, are present only on certain parts. We must -locate those parts exactly and then consider what this special -distribution means.” He rapidly sketched out on a sheet of paper a -rough diagram of the coat, marking each part with a distinctive -letter, and then, taking a number of labelled slides, he wrote a -single letter on each. The samples of dust taken on the slides could -thus be easily referred to the exact spots whence they had been -obtained.</p> - -<p>Once more we set to work with the microscope, making, now and again, -an addition to our lists of discoveries, and, at the end of nearly an -hour’s strenuous search, every slide had been examined and the lists -compared.</p> - -<p>“The net result of the examination,” said Thorndyke, “is this. The -entire coat, inside and out, is evenly powdered with the following -substances: Rice-starch in abundance, wheat-starch in less abundance, -and smaller quantities of the starches of ginger, pimento and -cinnamon; bast fibre of cinnamon, various seed cortices, stone-cells -of pimento, cinnamon, cassia and black pepper, with other fragments -of similar origin, such as resin-cells and ginger pigment—not -turmeric. In addition there are, on the right shoulder and sleeve, -traces of cocoa and hops, and on the back below the shoulders a few -fragments of graphite. Those are the data; and now, what are the -inferences? Remember this is not mere surface dust, but the -accumulation of months, beaten into the cloth by repeated -brushing—dust that nothing but a vacuum apparatus could extract.”</p> - -<p>“Evidently,” I said, “the particles that are all over the coat -represent dust that is floating in the air of the place where the -coat habitually hangs. The graphite has obviously been picked up from -a seat and the cocoa and hops from some factories that the man passes -frequently, though I don’t see why they are on the right side only.”</p> - -<p>“That is a question of time,” said Thorndyke, “and incidentally -throws some light on our friend’s habits. Going from home, he passes -the factories on his right; returning home, he passes them on his -left, but they have then stopped work. However, the first group of -substances is the more important as they indicate the locality of his -dwelling—for he is clearly not a workman or factory employee. Now -rice-starch, wheat-starch and a group of substances collectively -designated ‘spices’ suggest a rice-mill, a flour-mill and a spice -factory. Polton, may I trouble you for the Post Office Directory?”</p> - -<p>He turned over the leaves of the “Trades” section and resumed: “I see -there are four rice-mills in London, of which the largest is -Carbutt’s at Dockhead. Let us look at the spice-factories.” He again -turned over the leaves and read down the list of names. “There are -six spice-grinders in London,” said he. “One of them, Thomas Williams -& Co., is at Dockhead. None of the others is near any rice-mill. The -next question is as to the flour-mill. Let us see. Here are the names -of several flour millers, but none of them is near either a rice-mill -or a spice-grinder, with one exception: Seth Taylor’s, St. Saviour’s -Flour Mills, Dockhead.”</p> - -<p>“This is really becoming interesting,” said I.</p> - -<p>“It has become interesting,” Thorndyke retorted. “You observe that at -Dockhead we find the peculiar combination of factories necessary to -produce the composite dust in which this coat has hung; and the -directory shows us that this particular combination exists nowhere -else in London. Then the graphite, the cocoa and the hops tend to -confirm the other suggestions. They all appertain to industries of -the locality. The trams which pass Dockhead, also, to my knowledge, -pass at no great distance from the black-lead works of Pearce Duff & -Co. in Rouel Road, and will probably collect a few particles of -black-lead on the seats in certain states of the wind. I see, too, -that there is a cocoa factory—Payne’s—in Goat Street, Horsleydown, -which lies to the right of the tram line going west, and I have -noticed several hop warehouses on the right side of Southwark Street, -going west. But these are mere suggestions; the really important data -are the rice and flour mills and the spice-grinders, which seem to -point unmistakably to Dockhead.”</p> - -<p>“Are there any private houses at Dockhead?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“We must look up the ‘Street’ list,” he replied. “The Yale latch-key -rather suggests a flat, and a flat with a single occupant, and the -probable habits of our absent friend offer a similar suggestion.” He -ran his eye down the list and presently turned to me with his finger -on the page.</p> - -<p>“If the facts that we have elicited—the singular series of -agreements with the required conditions—are only a string of -coincidences, here is another. On the south side of Dockhead, -actually next door to the spice-grinders and opposite to Carbutt’s -rice-mills, is a block of workmen’s flats, Hanover Buildings. They -fulfil the conditions exactly. A coat hung in a room in those flats, -with the windows open (as they would probably be at this time of -year), would be exposed to the air containing a composite dust of -precisely the character of that which we have found. Of course, the -same conditions obtain in other dwellings in this part of Dockhead, -but the probability is in favour of the buildings. And that is all -that we can say. It is no certainty. There may be some radical -fallacy in our reasoning. But, on the face of it, the chances are a -thousand to one that the door that that key will open is in some part -of Dockhead, and most probably in Hanover Buildings. We must leave -the verification to Miller.”</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t it be as well to look at the tram-ticket?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Dear me!” he exclaimed. “I had forgotten the ticket. Yes, by all -means.” He opened the envelope and, turning its contents out on the -bench, picked up the dingy slip of paper. After a glance at it he -handed it to me. It was punched for the journey from Tooley Street to -Dockhead.</p> - -<p>“Another coincidence,” he remarked; “and by yet another, I think I -hear Miller knocking at our door.”</p> - -<p>It was the superintendent, and, as we let him into the room, the hum -of a motor-car entering from Tudor Street announced the arrival of -Mrs. Chater. We waited for her at the open door, and, as she entered, -she held out her hands impulsively.</p> - -<p>“Say, now, Dr. Thorndyke,” she exclaimed, “have you gotten something -to tell us?”</p> - -<p>“I have a suggestion to make,” replied Thorndyke. “I think that if -the superintendent will take this key to Hanover Buildings, Dockhead, -Bermondsey, he may possibly find a door that it will fit.”</p> - -<p>“The deuce!” exclaimed Miller. “I beg your pardon, madam; but I -thought I had gone through that coat pretty completely. What was it -that I had overlooked, sir? Was there a letter hidden in it, after -all?”</p> - -<p>“You overlooked the dust on it, Miller; that is all,” said Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“Dust!” exclaimed the detective, staring round-eyed at my colleague. -Then he chuckled softly. “Well,” said he, “as I said before, I’m not -a sorcerer; I’m only a policeman.” He picked up the key and asked: -“Are you coming to see the end of it, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Of course he is coming,” said Mrs. Chater, “and Dr. Jervis too, to -identify the man. Now that we have gotten the villain we must leave -him no loophole for escape.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke smiled dryly. “We will come if you wish it, Mrs. Chater,” -he said, “but you mustn’t look upon our quest as a certainty. We may -have made an entire miscalculation, and I am, in fact, rather curious -to see if the result works out correctly. But even if we run the man -to earth, I don’t see that you have much evidence against him. The -most that you can prove is that he was at the house and that he left -hurriedly.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Chater regarded my colleague for a moment in scornful silence, -and then, gathering up her skirts, stalked out of the room. If there -is one thing that the average woman detests more than another, it is -an entirely reasonable man.</p> - -<p>The big car whirled us rapidly over Blackfriars Bridge into the -region of the Borough, whence we presently turned down Tooley Street -towards Bermondsey.</p> - -<p>As soon as Dockhead came into view, the detective, Thorndyke and I, -alighted and proceeded on foot, leaving our client, who was now -closely veiled, to follow at a little distance in the car. Opposite -the head of St. Saviour’s Dock, Thorndyke halted and, looking over -the wall, drew my attention to the snowy powder that had lodged on -every projection on the backs of the tall buildings and on the decks -of the barges that were loading with the flour and ground rice. Then, -crossing the road, he pointed to the wooden lantern above the roof of -the spice works, the louvres of which were covered with greyish-buff -dust.</p> - -<p>“Thus,” he moralized, “does commerce subserve the ends of justice—at -least, we hope it does,” he added quickly, as Miller disappeared into -the semi-basement of the buildings.</p> - -<p>We met the detective returning from his quest as we entered the -building.</p> - -<p>“No go there,” was his report. “We’ll try the next floor.”</p> - -<p>This was the ground-floor, or it might be considered the first floor. -At any rate, it yielded nothing of interest, and, after a glance at -the doors that opened on the landing, he strode briskly up the stone -stairs. The next floor was equally unrewarding, for our eager -inspection disclosed nothing but the gaping keyhole associated with -the common type of night-latch.</p> - -<p>“What name was you wanting?” inquired a dusty knight of industry who -emerged from one of the flats.</p> - -<p>“Muggs,” replied Miller, with admirable promptness.</p> - -<p>“Don’t know ’im,” said the workman. “I expect it’s farther up.”</p> - -<p>Farther up we accordingly went, but still from each door the artless -grin of the invariable keyhole saluted us with depressing monotony. I -began to grow uneasy, and when the fourth floor had been explored -with no better result, my anxiety became acute. A mare’s nest may be -an interesting curiosity, but it brings no kudos to its discoverer.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you haven’t made any mistake, sir?” said Miller, stopping -to wipe his brow.</p> - -<p>“It’s quite likely that I have,” replied Thorndyke, with unmoved -composure. “I only proposed this search as a tentative proceeding, -you know.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent grunted. He was accustomed—as was I too, for that -matter—to regard Thorndyke’s “tentative suggestions” as equal to -another man’s certainties.</p> - -<p>“It will be an awful suck-in for Mrs. Chater if we don’t find him -after all,” he growled as we climbed up the last flight. “She’s -counted her chickens to a feather.” He paused at the head of the -stairs and stood for a few moments looking round the landing. -Suddenly he turned eagerly, and, laying his hand on Thorndyke’s arm, -pointed to a door in the farthest corner.</p> - -<p>“Yale lock!” he whispered impressively.</p> - -<p>We followed him silently as he stole on tip-toe across the landing, -and watched him as he stood for an instant with the key in his land -looking gloatingly at the brass disc. We saw him softly apply the -nose of the fluted key-blade to the crooked slit in the cylinder, -and, as we watched, it slid noiselessly up to the shoulder. The -detective looked round with a grin of triumph, and, silently -withdrawing the key, stepped back to us.</p> - -<p>“You’ve run him to earth, sir,” he whispered, “but I don’t think Mr. -Fox is at home. He can’t have got back yet.”</p> - -<p>“Why not?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>Miller waved his hand towards the door. “Nothing has been disturbed,” -he replied. “There’s not a mark on the paint. Now he hadn’t got the -key, and you can’t pick a Yale lock. He’d have had to break in, and -he hasn’t broken in.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke stepped up to the door and softly pushed in the flap of the -letter-slit, through which he looked into the flat.</p> - -<p>“There’s no letter-box,” said he. “My dear Miller, I would undertake -to open that door in five minutes with a foot of wire and a bit of -resined string.”</p> - -<p>Miller shook his head and grinned once more. “I am glad you’re not on -the lay, sir; you’d be one too many for us. Shall we signal to the -lady?”</p> - -<p>I went out onto the gallery and looked down at the waiting car. Mrs. -Chater was staring intently up at the building, and the little crowd -that the car had collected stared alternately at the lady and at the -object of her regard. I wiped my face with my handkerchief—the -signal agreed upon—and she instantly sprang out of the car, and in -an incredibly short time she appeared on the landing, purple and -gasping, but with the fire of battle flashing from her eyes.</p> - -<p>“We’ve found his flat, madam,” said Miller, “and we’re going to -enter. You’re not intending to offer any violence, I hope,” he added, -noting with some uneasiness the lady’s ferocious expression.</p> - -<p>“Of course I’m not,” replied Mrs. Chater. “In the States ladies don’t -have to avenge insults themselves. If you were American men you’d -hang the ruffian from his own bedpost.”</p> - -<p>“We’re not American men, madam,” said the superintendent stiffly. “We -are law-abiding Englishmen, and, moreover, we are all officers of the -law. These gentlemen are barristers and I am a police officer.”</p> - -<p>With this preliminary caution, he once more inserted the key, and as -he turned it and pushed the door open, we all followed him into the -sitting-room.</p> - -<p>“I told you so, sir,” said Miller, softly shutting the door; “he -hasn’t come back yet.”</p> - -<p>Apparently he was right. At any rate, there was no one in the flat, -and we proceeded unopposed on our tour of inspection. It was a -miserable spectacle, and, as we wandered from one squalid room to -another, a feeling of pity for the starving wretch into whose lair we -were intruding stole over me and began almost to mitigate the -hideousness of his crime. On all sides poverty—utter, grinding -poverty—stared us in the face. It looked at us hollow-eyed in the -wretched sitting-room, with its bare floor, its solitary chair and -tiny deal table; its unfurnished walls and windows destitute of blind -or curtain. A piece of Dutch cheese-rind on the table, scraped to the -thinness of paper, whispered of starvation; and famine lurked in the -gaping cupboard, in the empty bread-tin, in the tea-caddy with its -pinch of dust at the bottom, in the jam-jar, wiped clean, as a few -crumbs testified, with a crust of bread. There was not enough food in -the place to furnish a meal for a healthy mouse.</p> - -<p>The bedroom told the same tale, but with a curious variation. A -miserable truckle-bed with a straw mattress and a cheap jute rug for -bed-clothes, an orange-case, stood on end, for a dressing-table, and -another, bearing a tin washing bowl, formed the wretched furniture. -But the suit that hung from a couple of nails was well-cut and even -fashionable, though shabby; and another suit lay on the floor, neatly -folded and covered with a newspaper; and, most incongruous of all, a -silver cigarette-case reposed on the dressing-table.</p> - -<p>“Why on earth does this fellow starve,” I exclaimed, “when he has a -silver case to pawn?”</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t do,” said Miller. “A man doesn’t pawn the implements of his -trade.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Chater, who had been staring about her with the mute amazement -of a wealthy woman confronted, for the first time, with abject -poverty, turned suddenly to the superintendent. “This can’t be the -man!” she exclaimed. “You have made some mistake. This poor creature -could never have made his way into a house like Willowdale.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke lifted the newspaper. Beneath it was a dress suit with the -shirt, collar and tie all carefully smoothed out and folded. -Thorndyke unfolded the shirt and pointed to the curiously crumpled -front. Suddenly he brought it close to his eye and then, from the -sham diamond stud, he drew a single hair—a woman’s hair.</p> - -<p>“That is rather significant,” said he, holding it up between his -finger and thumb; and Mrs. Chater evidently thought so too, for the -pity and compunction suddenly faded from her face, and once more her -eyes flashed with vindictive fire.</p> - -<p>“I wish he would come,” she exclaimed viciously. “Prison won’t be -much hardship to him after this, but I want to see him in the dock -all the same.”</p> - -<p>“No,” the detective agreed, “it won’t hurt him much to swap this for -Portland. Listen!”</p> - -<p>A key was being inserted into the outer door, and as we all stood -like statues, a man entered and closed the door after him. He passed -the door of the bedroom without seeing us, and with the dragging -steps of a weary, dispirited man. Almost immediately we heard him go -to the kitchen and draw water into some vessel. Then he went back to -the sitting-room.</p> - -<p>“Come along,” said Miller, stepping silently towards the door. We -followed closely, and as he threw the door open, we looked in over -his shoulder.</p> - -<p>The man had seated himself at the table, on which now lay a hunk of -household bread resting on the paper in which he had brought it, and -a tumbler of water. He half rose as the door opened, and as if -petrified remained staring at Miller with a dreadful expression of -terror upon his livid face.</p> - -<p>At this moment I felt a hand on my arm, and Mrs. Chater brusquely -pushed past me into the room. But at the threshold she stopped short; -and a singular change crept over the man’s ghastly face, a change so -remarkable that I looked involuntarily from him to our client. She -had turned, in a moment, deadly pale, and her face had frozen into an -expression of incredulous horror.</p> - -<p>The dramatic silence was broken by the matter-of-fact voice of the -detective.</p> - -<p>“I am a police officer,” said he, “and I arrest you for——”</p> - -<p>A peal of hysterical laughter from Mrs. Chater interrupted him, and -he looked at her in astonishment. “Stop, stop!” she cried in a shaky -voice. “I guess we’ve made a ridiculous mistake. This isn’t the man. -This gentleman is Captain Rowland, an old friend of mine.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry he’s a friend of yours,” said Miller, “because I shall -have to ask you to appear against him.”</p> - -<p>“You can ask what you please,” replied Mrs. Chater. “I tell you he’s -not the man.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent rubbed his nose and looked hungrily at his quarry. -“Do I understand, madam,” he asked stiffly, “that you refuse to -prosecute?”</p> - -<p>“Prosecute!” she exclaimed. “Prosecute my friends for offences that I -know they have not committed? Certainly I refuse.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent looked at Thorndyke, but my colleague’s -countenance had congealed into a state of absolute immobility and was -as devoid of expression as the face of a Dutch clock.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said Miller, looking sourly at his watch. “Then we have -had our trouble for nothing. I wish you good afternoon, madam.”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry I troubled you, now,” said Mrs. Chater.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry you did,” was the curt reply; and the superintendent, -flinging the key on the table, stalked out of the room.</p> - -<p>As the outer door slammed the man sat down with an air of -bewilderment; and then, suddenly flinging his arms on the table, he -dropped his head on them and burst into a passion of sobbing.</p> - -<p>It was very embarrassing. With one accord Thorndyke and I turned to -go, but Mrs. Chater motioned us to stay. Stepping over to the man, -she touched him lightly on the arm.</p> - -<p>“Why did you do it?” she asked in a tone of gentle reproach.</p> - -<p>The man sat up and flung out one arm in an eloquent gesture that -comprehended the miserable room and the yawning cupboard.</p> - -<p>“It was the temptation of a moment,” he said. “I was penniless, and -those accursed diamonds were thrust in my face; they were mine for -the taking. I was mad, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“But why didn’t you take them?” she said. “Why didn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. The madness passed; and then—when I saw you lying -there—— Oh, God! Why don’t you give me up to the police?” He laid -his head down and sobbed afresh.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Chater bent over him with tears standing in her pretty grey -eyes. “But tell me,” she said, “why didn’t you take the diamonds? You -could if you’d liked, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“What good were they to me?” he demanded passionately. “What did any -thing matter to me? I thought you were dead.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m not, you see,” she said, with a rather tearful smile; “I’m -just as well as an old woman like me can expect to be. And I want -your address, so that I can write and give you some good advice.”</p> - -<p>The man sat up and produced a shabby cardcase from his pocket, and, -as he took out a number of cards and spread them out like the “hand” -of a whist player, I caught a twinkle in Thorndyke’s eye.</p> - -<p>“My name is Augustus Bailey,” said the man. He selected the -appropriate card, and, having scribbled his address on it with a -stump of lead pencil, relapsed into his former position.</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Mrs. Chater, lingering for a moment by the table. -“Now we’ll go. Good-bye, Mr. Bailey. I shall write tomorrow, and you -must attend seriously to the advice of an old friend.”</p> - -<p>I held open the door for her to pass out and looked back before I -turned to follow. Bailey still sat sobbing quietly, with his hand -resting on his arms; and a little pile of gold stood on the corner of -the table.</p> - -<p>“I expect, doctor,” said Mrs. Chater, as Thorndyke handed her into -the car, “you’ve written me down a sentimental fool.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke looked at her with an unwonted softening of his rather -severe face and answered quietly, “It is written: Blessed are the -Merciful.”</p> - -<hr> - -<h2 class="calibre12" id="toc5">THE OLD LAG</h2> - -<h3 class="calibre10" id="toc5_1">PART I</h3> - -<p class="calibre7">THE CHANGED IMMUTABLE</p> - -<p><span class="firstletter">A</span><span style="font-variant: small-caps">mong</span> the minor and purely physical pleasures of life, I am disposed -to rank very highly that feeling of bodily comfort that one -experiences on passing from the outer darkness of a wet winter’s -night to a cheerful interior made glad by mellow lamplight and -blazing hearth. And so I thought when, on a dreary November night, I -let myself into our chambers in the Temple and found my friend -smoking his pipe in slippered ease, by a roaring fire, and facing an -empty armchair evidently placed in readiness for me.</p> - -<p>As I shed my damp overcoat, I glanced inquisitively at my colleague, -for he held in his hand an open letter, and I seemed to perceive in -his aspect something meditative and self-communing—something, in -short, suggestive of a new case.</p> - -<p>“I was just considering,” he said, in answer to my inquiring look, -“whether I am about to become an accessory after the fact. Read that -and give me your opinion.”</p> - -<p>He handed me the letter, which I read aloud.</p> - -<p style="margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em;">“<span style="font-variant: small-caps">Dear Sir</span>,—I am in great danger and distress. A warrant has been -issued for my arrest on a charge of which I am entirely innocent. Can -I come and see you, and will you let me leave in safety? The bearer -will wait for a reply.”</p> - -<p>“I said ‘Yes,’ of course; there was nothing else to do,” said -Thorndyke. “But if I let him go, as I have promised to do, I shall be -virtually conniving at his escape.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you are taking a risk,” I answered. “When is he coming?”</p> - -<p>“He was due five minutes ago—and I rather think—yes, here he is.”</p> - -<p>A stealthy tread on the landing was followed by a soft tapping on the -outer door.</p> - -<p>Thorndyke rose and, flinging open the inner door, unfastened the -massive “oak.”</p> - -<p>“Dr. Thorndyke?” inquired a breathless, quavering voice.</p> - -<p>“Yes, come in. You sent me a letter by hand?”</p> - -<p>“I did, sir,” was the reply; and the speaker entered, but at the -sight of me he stopped short.</p> - -<p>“This is my colleague, Dr. Jervis,” Thorndyke explained. “You need -have no——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I remember him,” our visitor interrupted in a tone of relief. “I -have seen you both before, you know, and you have seen me too—though -I don’t suppose you recognize me,” he added, with a sickly smile.</p> - -<p>“Frank Belfield?” asked Thorndyke, smiling also.</p> - -<p>Our visitor’s jaw fell and he gazed at my colleague in sudden dismay.</p> - -<p>“And I may remark,” pursued Thorndyke, “that for a man in your -perilous position, you are running most unnecessary risks. That wig, -that false beard and those spectacles—through which you obviously -cannot see—are enough to bring the entire police force at your -heels. It is not wise for a man who is wanted by the police to make -up as though he had just escaped from a comic opera.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Belfield seated himself with a groan, and, taking off his -spectacles, stared stupidly from one of us to the other.</p> - -<p>“And now tell us about your little affair,” said Thorndyke. “You say -that you are innocent?”</p> - -<p>“I swear it, doctor,” replied Belfield; adding, with great -earnestness, “And you may take it from me, sir, that if I was not, I -shouldn’t be here. It was you that convicted me last time, when I -thought myself quite safe, so I know your ways too well to try to -gammon you.”</p> - -<p>“If you are innocent,” rejoined Thorndyke, “I will do what I can for -you; and if you are not—well, you would have been wiser to stay -away.”</p> - -<p>“I know that well enough,” said Belfield, “and I am only afraid that -you won’t believe what I am going to tell you.”</p> - -<p>“I shall keep an open mind, at any rate,” replied Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“If you only will,” groaned Belfield, “I shall have a look in, in -spite of them all. You know, sir, that I have been on the crook, but -I have paid in full. That job when you tripped me up was the last of -it—it was, sir, so help me. It was a woman that changed me—the best -and truest woman on God’s earth. She said she would marry me when I -came out if I promised her to go straight and live an honest life. -And she kept her promise—and I have kept mine. She found me work as -clerk in a warehouse and I have stuck to it ever since, earning fair -wages and building up a good character as an honest, industrious man. -I thought all was going well and that I was settled for life, when -only this very morning the whole thing comes tumbling about my ears -like a house of cards.”</p> - -<p>“What happened this morning, then?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“Why, I was on my way to work when, as I passed the police station, I -noticed a bill with the heading ‘Wanted’ and a photograph. I stopped -for a moment to look at it, and you may imagine my feelings when I -recognized my own portrait—taken at Holloway—and read my own name -and description. I did not stop to read the bill through, but ran -back home and told my wife, and she ran down to the station and read -the bill carefully. Good God, sir! What do you think I am wanted -for?” He paused for a moment, and then re plied in breathless tones -to his own question: “The Camberwell murder!”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke gave a low whistle.</p> - -<p>“My wife knows I didn’t do it,” continued Belfield, “because I was at -home all the evening and night; but what use is a man’s wife to prove -an alibi?”</p> - -<p>“Not much, I fear,” Thorndyke admitted; “and you have no other -witness?”</p> - -<p>“Not a soul. We were alone all the evening.”</p> - -<p>“However,” said Thorndyke, “if you are innocent—as I am -assuming—the evidence against you must be entirely circumstantial -and your alibi may be quite sufficient. Have you any idea of the -grounds of suspicion against you?”</p> - -<p>“Not the faintest. The papers said that the police had an excellent -clue, but they did not say what it was. Probably some one has given -false information for the——”</p> - -<p>A sharp rapping at the outer door cut short the explanation, and our -visitor rose, trembling and aghast, with beads of sweat standing upon -his livid face.</p> - -<p>“You had better go into the office, Belfield, while we see who it -is,” said Thorndyke. “The key is on the inside.”</p> - -<p>The fugitive wanted no second bidding, but hurried into the empty -apartment, and, as the door closed, we heard the key turn in the lock.</p> - -<p>As Thorndyke threw open the outer door, he cast a meaning glance at -me over his shoulder which I understood when the newcomer entered the -room; for it was none other than Superintendent Miller of Scotland -Yard.</p> - -<p>“I have just dropped in,” said the superintendent, in his brisk, -cheerful way, “to ask you to do me a favour. Good evening, Dr. -Jervis. I hear you are reading for the bar; learned counsel soon, -sir, hey? Medico-legal expert. Dr. Thorndyke’s mantle going to fall -on you, sir?”</p> - -<p>“I hope Dr. Thorndyke’s mantle will continue to drape his own -majestic form for many a long year yet,” I answered; “though he is -good enough to spare me a corner—but what on earth have you got -there?” For during this dialogue the Superintendent had been deftly -unfastening a brown-paper parcel, from which he now drew a linen -shirt, once white, but now of an unsavoury grey.</p> - -<p>“I want to know what this is,” said Miller, exhibiting a brownish-red -stain on one sleeve. “Just look at that, sir, and tell me if it is -blood, and, if so, is it human blood?”</p> - -<p>“Really, Miller,” said Thorndyke, with a smile, “you flatter me; but -I am not like the wise woman of Bagdad who could tell you how many -stairs the patient had tumbled down by merely looking at his tongue. -I must examine this very thoroughly. When do you want to know?”</p> - -<p>“I should like to know to-night,” replied the detective.</p> - -<p>“Can I cut a piece out to put under the microscope?”</p> - -<p>“I would rather you did not,” was the reply.</p> - -<p>“Very well; you shall have the information in about an hour.”</p> - -<p>“It’s very good of you, doctor,” said the detective; and he was -taking up his hat preparatory to departing, when Thorndyke said -suddenly——</p> - -<p>“By the way, there is a little matter that I was going to speak to -you about. It refers to this Camberwell murder case. I understand you -have a clue to the identity of the murderer?”</p> - -<p>“Clue!” exclaimed the superintendent contemptuously. “We have spotted -our man all right, if we could only lay hands on him; but he has -given us the slip for the moment.”</p> - -<p>“Who is the man?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>The detective looked doubtfully at Thorndyke for some seconds and -then said, with evident reluctance: “I suppose there is no harm in -telling you—especially as you probably know already”—this with a -sly grin; “it’s an old crook named Belfield.”</p> - -<p>“And what is the evidence against him?”</p> - -<p>Again the superintendent looked doubtful and again relented.</p> - -<p>“Why, the case is as clear as—as cold Scotch,” he said (here -Thorndyke in illustration of this figure of speech produced a -decanter, a syphon and a tumbler, which he pushed towards the -officer). “You see, sir, the silly fool went and stuck his sweaty -hand on the window; and there we found the marks—four fingers and a -thumb, as beautiful prints as you could wish to see. Of course we cut -out the piece of glass and took it up to the Finger-print Department; -they turned up their files and out came Mr. Belfield’s record, with -his finger-prints and photograph all complete.”</p> - -<p>“And the finger-prints on the window-pane were identical with those -on the prison form?”</p> - -<p>“Identical.”</p> - -<p>“H’m!” Thorndyke reflected for a while, and the superintendent -watched him foxily over the edge of his tumbler.</p> - -<p>“I guess you are retained to defend Belfield,” the latter observed -presently.</p> - -<p>“To look into the case generally,” replied Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“And I expect you know where the beggar is hiding,” continued the -detective.</p> - -<p>“Belfield’s address has not yet been communicated to me,” said -Thorndyke. “I am merely to investigate the case—and there is no -reason, Miller, why you and I should be at cross purposes. We are -both working at the case; you want to get a conviction and you want -to convict the right man.”</p> - -<p>“That’s so—and Belfield’s the right man—but what do you want of us, -doctor?”</p> - -<p>“I should like to see the piece of glass with the finger-prints on -it, and the prison form, and take a photograph of each. And I should -like to examine the room in which the murder took place—you have it -locked up, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, we have the keys. Well, it’s all rather irregular, letting you -see the things. Still, you’ve always played the game fairly with us, -so we might stretch a point. Yes, I will. I’ll come back in an hour -for your report and bring the glass and the form. I can’t let them go -out of my custody, you know. I’ll be off now—no, thank you, not -another drop.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent caught up his hat and strode away, the -personification of mental alertness and bodily vigour.</p> - -<p>No sooner had the door closed behind him than Thorndyke’s stolid calm -changed instantaneously into feverish energy. Darting to the electric -bell that rang into the laboratories above, he pressed the button -while he gave me my directions.</p> - -<p>“Have a look at that bloodstain, Jervis, while I am finishing with -Belfield. Don’t wet it; scrape it into a drop of warm normal saline -solution.”</p> - -<p>I hastened to reach down the microscope and set out on the table the -necessary apparatus and reagents, and, as I was thus occupied, a -latch-key turned in the outer door and our invaluable helpmate, -Polton, entered the room in his habitual silent, unobtrusive fashion.</p> - -<p>“Let me have the finger-print apparatus, please, Polton,” said -Thorndyke; “and have the copying camera ready by nine o’clock. I am -expecting Mr. Miller with some documents.”</p> - -<p>As his laboratory assistant departed, Thorndyke rapped at the office -door.</p> - -<p>“It’s all clear, Belfield,” he called; “you can come out.”</p> - -<p>The key turned and the prisoner emerged, looking ludicrously -woebegone in his ridiculous wig and beard.</p> - -<p>“I am going to take your finger-prints, to compare with some that the -police found on the window.”</p> - -<p>“Finger-prints!” exclaimed Belfield, in a tone of dismay. “They don’t -say they’re my finger-prints, do they, sir?”</p> - -<p>“They do indeed,” replied Thorndyke, eyeing the man narrowly. “They -have compared them with those taken when you were at Holloway, and -they say that they are identical.”</p> - -<p>“Good God!” murmured Belfield, collapsing into a chair, faint and -trembling. “They must have made some awful mistake. But are mistakes -possible with finger-prints?”</p> - -<p>“Now look here, Belfield,” said Thorndyke. “Were you in that house -that night, or were you not? It is of no use for you to tell me any -lies.”</p> - -<p>“I was not there, sir; I swear to God I was not.”</p> - -<p>“Then they cannot be your finger-prints, that is obvious.” Here he -stepped to the door to intercept Polton, from whom he received a -substantial box, which he brought in and placed on the table.</p> - -<p>“Tell me all you know about this case,” he continued, as he set out -the contents of the box on the table.</p> - -<p>“I know nothing about it whatever,” replied Belfield; “nothing, at -least, except——”</p> - -<p>“Except what?” demanded Thorndyke, looking up sharply as he squeezed -a drop from a tube of finger-print ink onto a smooth copper plate.</p> - -<p>“Except that the murdered man, Caldwell, was a retired fence.”</p> - -<p>“A fence, was he?” said Thorndyke in a tone of interest.</p> - -<p>“Yes; and I suspect he was a ‘nark’ too. He knew more than was -wholesome for a good many.”</p> - -<p>“Did he know anything about you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; but nothing that the police don’t know.”</p> - -<p>With a small roller Thorndyke spread the ink upon the plate into a -thin film. Then he laid on the edge of the table a smooth white card -and, taking Belfield’s right hand, pressed the forefinger firmly but -quickly, first on the inked plate and then on the card, leaving on -the latter a clear print of the finger-tip. This process he repeated -with the other fingers and thumb, and then took several additional -prints of each.</p> - -<p>“That was a nasty injury to your forefinger, Belfield,” said -Thorndyke, holding the finger to the light and examining the tip -carefully. “How did you do it?”</p> - -<p>“Stuck a tin-opener into it—a dirty one, too. It was bad for weeks; -in fact, Dr. Sampson thought at one time that he would have to -amputate the finger.”</p> - -<p>“How long ago was that?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, nearly a year ago, sir.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke wrote the date of the injury by the side of the -finger-print and then, having rolled up the inking plate afresh, laid -on the table several larger cards.</p> - -<p>“I am now going to take the prints of the four fingers and the thumb -all at once,” he said.</p> - -<p>“They only took the four fingers at once at the prison,” said -Belfield. “They took the thumb separately.”</p> - -<p>“I know,” replied Thorndyke; “but I am going to take the impression -just as it would appear on the window glass.”</p> - -<p>He took several impressions thus, and then, having looked at his -watch, he began to repack the apparatus in its box. While doing this, -he glanced, from time to time, in meditative fashion, at the -suspected man who sat, the living picture of misery and terror, -wiping the greasy ink from his trembling fingers with his -handkerchief.</p> - -<p>“Belfield,” he said at length, “you have sworn to me that you are an -innocent man and are trying to live an honest life. I believe you; -but in a few minutes I shall know for certain.”</p> - -<p>“Thank God for that, sir,” exclaimed Belfield, brightening up -wonderfully.</p> - -<p>“And now,” said Thorndyke, “you had better go back into the office, -for I am expecting Superintendent Miller, and he may be here at any -moment.”</p> - -<p>Belfield hastily slunk back into the office, locking the door after -him, and Thorndyke, having returned the box to the laboratory and -deposited the cards bearing the finger-prints in a drawer, came round -to inspect my work. I had managed to detach a tiny fragment of dried -clot from the bloodstained garment, and this, in a drop of normal -saline solution, I now had under the microscope.</p> - -<p>“What do you make out, Jervis?” my colleague asked.</p> - -<p>“Oval corpuscles with distinct nuclei,” I answered.</p> - -<p>“Ah,” said Thorndyke, “that will be good hearing for some poor devil. -Have you measured them?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Long diameter 1/2100 of an inch; short diameter about 1/3400.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke reached down an indexed note-book from a shelf of reference -volumes and consulted a table of histological measurements.</p> - -<p>“That would seem to be the blood of a pheasant, then, or it might, -more probably, be that of a common fowl.” He applied his eye to the -microscope and, fitting in the eye-piece micrometer, verified my -measurements. He was thus employed when a sharp tap was heard on the -outer door, and rising to open it he admitted the superintendent.</p> - -<p>“I see you are at work on my little problem, doctor,” said the -latter, glancing at the microscope. “What do you make of that stain?”</p> - -<p>“It is the blood of a bird—probably a pheasant, or perhaps a common -fowl.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent slapped his thigh. “Well, I’m hanged!” he -exclaimed. “You’re a regular wizard, doctor, that’s what you are. The -fellow said he got that stain through handling a wounded pheasant and -here are you able to tell us yes or no without a hint from us to help -you. Well, you’ve done my little job for me, sir, and I’m much -obliged to you; now I’ll carry out my part of the bargain.” He opened -a handbag and drew forth a wooden frame and a blue foolscap envelope -and laid them with extreme care on the table.</p> - -<p>“There you are, sir,” said he, pointing to the frame; “you will find -Mr. Belfield’s trademark very neatly executed, and in the envelope is -the finger-print sheet for comparison.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke took up the frame and examined it. It enclosed two sheets -of glass, one being the portion of the window-pane and the other a -cover-glass to protect the finger prints. Laying a sheet of white -paper on the table, where the light was strongest, Thorndyke held the -frame over it and gazed at the glass in silence, but with that faint -lighting up of his impassive face which I knew so well and which -meant so much to me. I walked round, and looking over his shoulder -saw upon the glass the beautifully distinct imprints of four fingers -and a thumb—the finger-tips, in fact, of an open hand.</p> - -<p>After regarding the frame attentively for some time, Thorndyke -produced from his pocket a little wash-leather bag, from which he -extracted a powerful doublet lens, and with the aid of this he again -explored the finger-prints, dwelling especially upon the print of the -forefinger.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think you will find much amiss with those finger-prints, -doctor,” said the superintendent, “they are as clear as if he made -them on purpose.”</p> - -<p>“They are indeed,” replied Thorndyke, with an inscrutable smile, -“exactly as if he had made them on purpose. And how beautifully clean -the glass is—as if he had polished it before making the impression.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent glanced at Thorndyke with quick suspicion; but the -smile had faded and given place to a wooden immobility from which -nothing could be gleaned.</p> - -<p>When he had examined the glass exhaustively, Thorndyke drew the -finger-print form from its envelope and scanned it quickly, glancing -repeatedly from the paper to the glass and from the glass to the -paper. At length he laid them both on the table, and turning to the -detective looked him steadily in the face.</p> - -<p>“I think, Miller,” said he, “that I can give you a hint.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed, sir? And what might that be?”</p> - -<p>“It is this: you are after the wrong man.”</p> - -<p>The Superintendent snorted—not a loud snort, for that would have -been rude, and no officer could be more polite than Superintendent -Miller. But it conveyed a protest which he speedily followed up in -words.</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean to say that the prints on that glass are not the -finger-prints of Frank Belfield?”</p> - -<p>“I say that those prints were not made by Frank Belfield,” Thorndyke -replied firmly.</p> - -<p>“Do you admit, sir, that the finger-prints on the official form were -made by him?”</p> - -<p>“I have no doubt that they were.”</p> - -<p>“Well, sir, Mr. Singleton, of the Finger-print Department, has -compared the prints on the glass with those on the form and he says -they are identical; and I have examined them and I say they are -identical.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly,” said Thorndyke; “and I have examined them and I say they -are identical—and that therefore those on the glass cannot have been -made by Belfield.”</p> - -<p>The Superintendent Snorted again—somewhat louder this time—and -gazed at Thorndyke with wrinkled brows.</p> - -<p>“You are not pulling my leg, I suppose, sir?” he asked, a little -sourly.</p> - -<p>“I should as soon think of tickling a porcupine,” Thorndyke answered, -with a suave smile.</p> - -<p>“Well,” rejoined the bewildered detective, “if I didn’t know you, -sir, I should say you were talking confounded nonsense. Perhaps you -wouldn’t mind explaining what you mean.”</p> - -<p>“Supposing,” said Thorndyke, “I make it clear to you that those -prints on the window-pane were not made by Belfield. Would you still -execute the warrant?”</p> - -<p>“What do <span class="calibre15">you</span> think?” exclaimed Miller. “Do you suppose we should go -into court to have you come and knock the bottom out of our case, -like you did in that Hornby affair—by the way, that was a -finger-print case too, now I come to think of it,” and the -superintendent suddenly became thoughtful.</p> - -<p>“You have often complained,” pursued Thorndyke, “that I have withheld -information from you and sprung unexpected evidence on you at the -trial. Now I am going to take you into my confidence, and when I have -proved to you that this clue of yours is a false one, I shall expect -you to let this poor devil Belfield go his way in peace.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent grunted—a form of utterance that committed him to -nothing.</p> - -<p>“These prints,” continued Thorndyke, taking up the frame once more, -“present several features of interest, one of which, at least, ought -not to have escaped you and Mr. Singleton, as it seems to have done. -Just look at that thumb.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent did so, and then pored over the official paper.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said, “I don’t see anything the matter with it. It’s -exactly like the print on the paper.”</p> - -<p>“Of course it is,” rejoined Thorndyke, “and that is just the point. -It ought not to be. The print of the thumb on the paper was taken -separately from the fingers. And why? Because it was impossible to -take it at the same time. The thumb is in a different plane from the -fingers; when the hand is laid flat on any surface—as this -window-pane, for instance—the palmar surfaces of the fingers touch -it, whereas it is the <span class="calibre15">side</span> of the thumb which comes in contact and -not the palmar surface. But in this”—he tapped the framed glass with -his finger—“the prints show the palmar surfaces of all the five -digits in contact at once, which is an impossibility. Just try to put -your own thumb in that position and you will see that it is so.”</p> - -<p>The detective spread out his hand on the table and immediately -perceived the truth of my colleague’s statement.</p> - -<p>“And what does that prove?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“It proves that the thumb-print on the window-pane was not made at -the same time as the finger-prints—that it was added separately; and -that fact seems to prove that the prints were not made accidentally, -but—as you ingeniously suggested just now—were put there for a -purpose.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t quite see the drift of all this,” said the superintendent, -rubbing the back of his head perplexedly; “and you said a while back -that the prints on the glass can’t be Belfield’s because they are -identical with the prints on the form. Now that seems to me sheer -nonsense, if you will excuse my saying so.”</p> - -<p>“And yet,” replied Thorndyke, “it is the actual fact. Listen: these -prints”—here he took up the official sheet—“were taken at Holloway -six years ago. These”—pointing to the framed glass—“were made -within the present week. The one is, as regards the ridge-pattern, a -perfect duplicate of the other. Is that not so?”</p> - -<p>“That is so, doctor,” agreed the superintendent.</p> - -<p>“Very well. Now suppose I were to tell you that within the last -twelve months something had happened to Belfield that made an -appreciable change in the ridge-pattern on one of his fingers?”</p> - -<p>“But is such a thing possible?”</p> - -<p>“It is not only possible but it has happened. I will show you.”</p> - -<p>He brought forth from the drawer the cards on which Belfield had made -his finger-prints, and laid them before the detective.</p> - -<p>“Observe the prints of the forefinger,” he said, indicating them; -“there are a dozen, in all, and you will notice in each a white line -crossing the ridges and dividing them. That line is caused by a scar, -which has destroyed a portion of the ridges, and is now an integral -part of Belfield’s finger-print. And since no such blank line is to -be seen in this print on the glass—in which the ridges appear -perfect, as they were before the injury—it follows that that print -could not have been made by Belfield’s finger.”</p> - -<p>“There is no doubt about the injury, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“None whatever. There is the scar to prove it, and I can produce the -surgeon who attended Belfield at the time.”</p> - -<p>The officer rubbed his head harder than before, and regarded -Thorndyke with puckered brows.</p> - -<p>“This is a teaser,” he growled, “it is indeed. What you say, sir, -seems perfectly sound, and yet—there are those finger-prints on the -window-glass. Now you can’t get finger prints without fingers, can -you?”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly you can,” said Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“I should want to see that done before I could believe even you, -sir,” said Miller.</p> - -<p>“You shall see it done now,” was the calm rejoinder. “You have -evidently forgotten the Hornby case—the case of the Red Thumb-mark, -as the newspapers called it.”</p> - -<p>“I only heard part of it,” replied Miller, “and I didn’t really -follow the evidence in that.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I will show you a relic of that case,” said Thorndyke. He -unlocked a cabinet and took from one of the shelves a small box -labelled “Hornby,” which, being opened, was seen to contain a folded -paper, a little red-covered oblong book and what looked like a large -boxwood pawn.</p> - -<p>“This little book,” Thorndyke continued, “is a ‘thumbograph’—a sort -of finger-print album—I dare say you know the kind of thing.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent nodded contemptuously at the little volume.</p> - -<p>“Now while Dr. Jervis is finding us the print we want, I will run up -to the laboratory for an inked slab.”</p> - -<p>He handed me the little book and, as he left the room, I began to -turn over the leaves—not without emotion, for it was this very -“thumbograph” that first introduced me to my wife, as is related -elsewhere—glancing at the various prints above the familiar names -and marvelling afresh at the endless variations of pattern that they -displayed. At length I came upon two thumb-prints of which one—the -left—was marked by a longitudinal white line—evidently the trace of -a scar; and underneath them was written the signature “Reuben Hornby.”</p> - -<p>At this moment Thorndyke re-entered the room carrying the inked slab, -which he laid on the table, and seating him self between the -superintendent and me, addressed the former.</p> - -<p>“Now, Miller, here are two thumb-prints made by a gentleman named -Reuben Hornby. Just glance at the left one; it is a highly -characteristic print.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” agreed Miller, “one could swear to that from memory, I should -think.”</p> - -<p>“Then look at this.” Thorndyke took the paper from the box and, -unfolding it, handed it to the detective. It bore a pencilled -inscription, and on it were two blood-smears and a very distinct -thumb-print in blood. “What do you say to that thumb-print?”</p> - -<p>“Why,” answered Miller, “it’s this one, of course; Reuben Hornby’s -left thumb.”</p> - -<p>“Wrong, my friend,” said Thorndyke. “It was made by an ingenious -gentleman named Walter Hornby (whom you followed from the Old Bailey -and lost on Ludgate Hill); but not with his thumb.”</p> - -<p>“How, then?” demanded the superintendent incredulously.</p> - -<p>“In this way.” Thorndyke took the boxwood “pawn” from its receptacle -and pressed its flat base onto the inked slab; then lifted it and -pressed it onto the back of a visiting-card, and again raised it; and -now the card was marked by a very distinct thumb-print.</p> - -<p>“My God!” exclaimed the detective, picking up the card and viewing it -with a stare of dismay, “this is the very devil, sir. This fairly -knocks the bottom out of finger-print identification. May I ask, sir, -how you made that stamp—for I suppose you did make it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, we made it here, and the process we used was practically that -used by photo-engravers in making line blocks; that is to say, we -photographed one of Mr. Hornby’s thumb-prints, printed it on a plate -of chrome-gelatine, developed the plate with hot water and -this”—here he touched the embossed surface of the stamp—“is what -remained. But we could have done it in various other ways; for -instance, with common transfer paper and lithographic stone; indeed, -I assure you, Miller, that there is nothing easier to forge than a -finger-print, and it can be done with such perfection that the forger -himself cannot tell his own forgery from a genuine original, even -when they are placed side by side.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m hanged,” grunted the superintendent, “you’ve fairly -knocked me, this time, doctor.” He rose gloomily and prepared to -depart. “I suppose,” he added, “your interest in this case has -lapsed, now Belfield’s out of it?”</p> - -<p>“Professionally, yes; but I am disposed to finish the case for my own -satisfaction. I am quite curious as to who our too-ingenious friend -may be.”</p> - -<p>Miller’s face brightened. “We shall give you every facility, you -know—and that reminds me that Singleton gave me these two -photographs for you, one of the official paper and one of the prints -on the glass. Is there anything more that we can do for you?”</p> - -<p>“I should like to have a look at the room in which the murder took -place.”</p> - -<p>“You shall, doctor; tomorrow, if you like; I’ll meet you there in the -morning at ten, if that will do.”</p> - -<p>It would do excellently, Thorndyke assured him, and with this the -superintendent took his departure in renewed spirits.</p> - -<p>We had only just closed the door when there came a hurried and urgent -tapping upon it, whereupon I once more threw it open, and a -quietly-dressed woman in a thick veil, who was standing on the -threshold, stepped quickly past me into the room.</p> - -<p>“Where is my husband?” she demanded, as I closed the door; and then, -catching sight of Thorndyke, she strode up to him with a threatening -air and a terrified but angry face.</p> - -<p>“What have you done with my husband, sir?” she repeated. “Have you -betrayed him, after giving your word? I met a man who looked like a -police officer on the stairs.”</p> - -<p>“Your husband, Mrs. Belfield, is here and quite safe,” replied -Thorndyke. “He has locked himself in that room,” indicating the -office.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belfield darted across and rapped smartly at the door. “Are you -there, Frank?” she called.</p> - -<p>In immediate response the key turned, the door opened and Belfield -emerged looking very pale and worn.</p> - -<p>“You <span class="calibre15">have</span> kept me a long time in there, sir,” he said.</p> - -<p>“It took me a long time to prove to Superintendent Miller that he was -after the wrong man. But I succeeded, and now, Belfield, you are -free. The charge against you is withdrawn.”</p> - -<p>Belfield stood for a while as one stupefied, while his wife, after a -moment of silent amazement, flung her arms round his neck and burst -into tears. “But how did you know I was innocent, sir?” demanded the -bewildered Belfield.</p> - -<p>“Ah! how did I? Every man to his trade, you know. Well, I -congratulate you, and now go home and have a square meal and get a -good night’s rest.”</p> - -<p>He shook hands with his clients—vainly endeavouring to prevent Mrs. -Belfield from kissing his hand—and stood at the open door listening -until the sound of their retreating footsteps died away.</p> - -<p>“A noble little woman, Jervis,” said he, as he closed the door. “In -another moment she would have scratched my face—and I mean to find -out the scoundrel who tried to wreck her happiness.”</p> - -<h3 class="calibre10" id="toc5_2">PART II</h3> - -<p class="calibre7">THE SHIP OF THE DESERT</p> - -<p><span class="firstletter">T</span><span style="font-variant: small-caps">he</span> case which I am now about to describe has always appeared to me a -singularly instructive one, as illustrating the value and importance -of that fundamental rule in the carrying out of investigations which -Thorndyke had laid down so emphatically—the rule that all facts, in -any way relating to a case, should be collected impartially and -without reference to any theory, and each fact, no matter how trivial -or apparently irrelevant, carefully studied. But I must not -anticipate the remarks of my learned and talented friend on this -subject which I have to chronicle anon; rather let me proceed to the -case itself.</p> - -<p>I had slept at our chambers in King’s Bench Walk—as I commonly did -two or three nights a week—and on coming down to the sitting-room, -found Thorndyke’s man, Polton, putting the last touches to the -breakfast-table, while Thorndyke himself was poring over two -photographs of finger-prints, of which he seemed to be taking -elaborate measurements with a pair of hair-dividers. He greeted me -with his quiet, genial smile and, laying down the dividers, took his -seat at the breakfast-table.</p> - -<p>“You are coming with me this morning, I suppose,” said he; “the -Camberwell murder case, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Of course I am if you will have me, but I know practically nothing -of the case. Could you give me an outline of the facts that are -known?”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke looked at me solemnly, but with a mischievous twinkle. -“This,” he said, “is the old story of the fox and the crow; you ‘bid -me discourse,’ and while I ‘enchant thine ear,’ you claw to windward -with the broiled ham. A deep-laid plot, my learned brother.”</p> - -<p>“And such,” I exclaimed, “is the result of contact with the criminal -classes!”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry that you regard yourself in that light,” he retorted, -with a malicious smile. “However, with regard to this case. The facts -are briefly these: The murdered man, Caldwell, who seems to have been -formerly a receiver of stolen goods and probably a police spy as -well, lived a solitary life in a small house with only an elderly -woman to attend him.</p> - -<p>“A week ago this woman went to visit a married daughter and stayed -the night with her, leaving Caldwell alone in the house. When she -returned on the following morning she found her master lying dead on -the floor of his office, or study, in a small pool of blood.</p> - -<p>“The police surgeon found that he had been dead about twelve hours. -He had been killed by a single blow, struck from behind, with some -heavy implement, and a jemmy which lay on the floor beside him fitted -the wound exactly. The deceased wore a dressing-gown and no collar, -and a bedroom candlestick lay upside down on the floor, although gas -was laid on in the room; and as the window of the office appears to -have been forced with the jemmy that was found, and there were -distinct footprints on the flower-bed outside the window, the police -think that the deceased was undressing to go to bed when he was -disturbed by the noise of the opening window; that he went down to -the office and, as he entered, was struck down by the burglar who was -lurking behind the door. On the window-glass the police found the -greasy impression of an open right hand, and, as you know, the -finger-prints were identified by the experts as those of an old -convict named Belfield. As you also know, I proved that those -finger-prints were, in reality, forgeries, executed with rubber or -gelatine stamps. That is an outline of the case.”</p> - -<p>The close of this recital brought our meal to an end, and we prepared -for our visit to the scene of the crime. Thorndyke slipped into his -pocket his queer outfit—somewhat like that of a field -geologist—locked up the photographs, and we set forth by way of the -Embankment.</p> - -<p>“The police have no clue, I suppose, to the identity of the murderer, -now that the finger-prints have failed?” I asked, as we strode along -together.</p> - -<p>“I expect not,” he replied, “though they might have if they examined -their material. I made out a rather interesting point this morning, -which is this: the man who made those sham finger-prints used two -stamps, one for the thumb and the other for the four fingers; and the -original from which those stamps were made was the official -finger-print form.”</p> - -<p>“How did you discover that?” I inquired.</p> - -<p>“It was very simple. You remember that Mr. Singleton of the -Finger-print Department sent me, by Superintendent Miller, two -photographs, one of the prints on the window and one of the official -form with Belfield’s finger-prints on it. Well, I have compared them -and made the most minute measurements of each, and they are obviously -duplicates. Not only are all the little imperfections on the -form—due to defective inking—reproduced faithfully on the -window-pane, but the relative positions of the four fingers on both -cases agree to the hundredth of an inch. Of course the thumb stamp -was made by taking an oval out of the rolled impression on the form.”</p> - -<p>“Then do you suggest that this murder was committed by some one -connected with the Finger-print Department at Scotland Yard?”</p> - -<p>“Hardly. But some one has had access to the forms. There has been -leakage somewhere.”</p> - -<p>When we arrived at the little detached house in which the murdered -man had lived, the door was opened by an elderly woman, and our -friend, Superintendent Miller, greeted us in the hall.</p> - -<p>“We are all ready for you, doctor,” said he. “Of course, the things -have all been gone over once, but we are turning them out more -thoroughly now.” He led the way into the small, barely-furnished -office in which the tragedy had occurred. A dark-stain on the carpet -and a square hole in one of the window-panes furnished memorials of -the crime, which were supplemented by an odd assortment of objects -laid out on the newspaper-covered table. These included silver -teaspoons, watches, various articles of jewellery, from which the -stones had been removed—none of them of any considerable value—and -a roughly-made jemmy.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know why Caldwell should have kept all these odds and ends,” -said the detective superintendent. “There is stuff here, that I can -identify, from six different burglaries—and not a conviction among -the six.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke looked over the collection with languid interest; he was -evidently disappointed at finding the room so completely turned out.</p> - -<p>“Have you any idea what has been taken?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Not the least. We don’t even know if the safe was opened. The keys -were on the writing-table, so I suppose he went through everything, -though I don’t see why he left these things if he did. We found them -all in the safe.”</p> - -<p>“Have you powdered the jemmy?”</p> - -<p>The superintendent turned very red. “Yes,” he growled, “but some -half-dozen blithering idiots had handled the thing before I saw -it—been trying it on the window, the blighters—so, of course, it -showed nothing but the marks of their beastly paws.”</p> - -<p>“The window had not really been forced, I suppose?” said Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Miller, with a glance of surprise at my colleague, -“that was a plant; so were the footprints. He must have put on a pair -of Caldwell’s boots and gone out and made them—unless Caldwell made -them himself, which isn’t likely.”</p> - -<p>“Have you found any letter or telegram?”</p> - -<p>“A letter making an appointment for nine o’clock on the night of the -murder. No signature or address, and the handwriting evidently -disguised.”</p> - -<p>“Is there anything that furnishes any sort of clue?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, there is. There’s this, which we found in the safe.” He -produced a small parcel which he proceeded to unfasten, looking -somewhat queerly at Thorndyke the while. It contained various odds -and ends of jewellery, and a smaller parcel formed of a -pocket-handkerchief tied with tape. This the detective also -unfastened, revealing half-a-dozen silver teaspoons, all engraved -with the same crest, two salt-cellars and a gold locket bearing a -monogram. There was also a half sheet of notepaper on which was -written, in a manifestly disguised hand: “There are the goods I told -you about.—F. B.” But what riveted Thorndyke’s attention and mine -was the handkerchief itself (which was not a very clean one and was -sullied by one or two small bloodstains), for it was marked in one -corner with the name “F. Belfield,” legibly printed in marking-ink -with a rubber stamp.</p> - -<p>Thorndyke and the superintendent looked at one another and both -smiled.</p> - -<p>“I know what you are thinking, sir,” said the latter.</p> - -<p>“I am sure you do,” was the reply, “and it is useless to pretend that -you don’t agree with me.”</p> - -<p>“Well, sir,” said Miller doggedly, “if that handkerchief has been put -there as a plant, it’s Belfield’s business to prove it. You see, -doctor,” he added persuasively, “it isn’t this job only that’s -affected. Those spoons, those salt-cellars and that locket are part -of the proceeds of the Winchmore Hill burglary, and we want the -gentleman who did that crack—we want him very badly.”</p> - -<p>“No doubt you do,” replied Thorndyke, “but this handkerchief won’t -help you. A sharp counsel—Mr. Anstey, for instance—would demolish -it in five minutes. I assure you, Miller, that handkerchief has no -evidential value whatever, whereas it might prove an invaluable -instrument of research. The best thing you can do is to hand it over -to me and let me see what I can learn from it.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent was obviously dissatisfied, but he eventually -agreed, with manifest reluctance, to Thorndyke’s suggestion.</p> - -<p>“Very well, doctor,” he said; “you shall have it for a day or two. Do -you want the spoons and things as well?”</p> - -<p>“No. Only the handkerchief and the paper that was in it.”</p> - -<p>The two articles were accordingly handed to him and deposited in a -tin box which he usually carried in his pocket, and, after a few more -words with the disconsolate detective, we took our departure.</p> - -<p>“A very disappointing morning,” was Thorndyke’s comment as we walked -away. “Of course the room ought to have been examined by an expert -before anything was moved.”</p> - -<p>“Have you picked up anything in the way of information?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Very little excepting confirmation of my original theory. You see, -this man Caldwell was a receiver and evidently a police spy. He gave -useful information to the police, and they, in return, refrained from -inconvenient inquiries. But a spy, or ‘nark,’ is nearly always a -blackmailer too, and the probabilities in this case are that some -crook, on whom Caldwell was putting the screw rather too tightly, -made an appointment for a meeting when the house was empty, and just -knocked Caldwell on the head. The crime was evidently planned -beforehand, and the murderer came prepared to kill several birds with -one stone. Thus he brought with him the stamps to make the sham -finger-prints on the window, and I have no doubt that he also brought -this handkerchief and the various oddments of plate and jewellery -from those burglaries that Miller is so keen about, and planted them -in the safe. You noticed, I suppose, that none of the things were of -any value, but all were capable of easy identification?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I noticed that. His object, evidently, was to put those -burglaries as well as the murder onto poor Belfield.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly. And you see what Miller’s attitude is; Belfield is the bird -in the hand, whereas the other man—if there is another—is still in -the bush; so Belfield is to be followed up and a conviction obtained -if possible. If he is innocent, that is his affair, and it is for him -to prove it.”</p> - -<p>“And what shall you do next?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“I shall telegraph to Belfield to come and see us this evening. He -may be able to tell us something about this handkerchief that, with -the clue we already have, may put us on the right track. What time is -your consultation?”</p> - -<p>“Twelve-thirty—and here comes my ’bus. I shall be in to lunch.” I -sprang onto the footboard, and as I took my seat on the roof and -looked back at my friend striding along with an easy swing, I knew -that he was deep in thought, though automatically attentive to all -that was happening.</p> - -<p>My consultation—it was a lunacy case of some importance—was over in -time to allow of my return to our chambers punctually at the luncheon -hour; and as I entered, I was at once struck by something new in -Thorndyke’s manner—a certain elation and gaiety which I had learned -to associate with a point scored successfully in some intricate and -puzzling case. He made no confidences, however, and seemed, in fact, -inclined to put away, for a time, all his professional cares and -business.</p> - -<p>“Shall we have an afternoon off, Jervis?” he said gaily. “It is a -fine day and work is slack just now. What say you to the Zoo? They -have a splendid chimpanzee and several specimens of that remarkable -fish <span class="calibre15">Periophthalmos Kölreuteri</span>. Shall we go?”</p> - -<p>“By all means,” I replied; “and we will mount the elephant, if you -like, and throw buns to the grizzly bear and generally renew our -youth like the eagle.”</p> - -<p>But when, an hour later, we found ourselves in the gardens, I began -to suspect my friend of some ulterior purpose in this holiday jaunt; -for it was not the chimpanzee or even the wonderful fish that -attracted his attention. On the contrary, he hung about the vicinity -of the lamas and camels in a way that I could not fail to notice; and -even there it appeared to be the sheds and houses rather than the -animals themselves that interested him.</p> - -<p>“Behold, Jervis,” he said presently, as a saddled camel of seedy -aspect was led towards its house, “behold the ship of the desert, -with raised saloon-deck amidships, fitted internally with watertight -compartments and displaying the effects of rheumatoid arthritis in -his starboard hip-joint. Let us go and examine him before he hauls -into dock.” We took a cross-path to intercept the camel on its way to -its residence, and Thorndyke moralized as we went.</p> - -<p>“It is interesting,” he remarked, “to note the way in which these -specialized animals, such as the horse, the reindeer and the camel, -have been appropriated by man, and their special character made to -subserve human needs. Think, for instance, of the part the camel has -played in history, in ancient commerce—and modern too, for that -matter—and in the diffusion of culture; and of the rôle he has -enacted in war and conquest from the Egyptian campaign of Cambyses -down to that of Kitchener. Yes, the camel is a very remarkable -animal, though it must be admitted that this particular specimen is a -scurvy-looking beast.”</p> - -<p>The camel seemed to be sensible of these disparaging remarks, for as -it approached it saluted Thorndyke with a supercilious grin and then -turned away its head.</p> - -<p>“Your charge is not as young as he used to be,” Thorndyke observed to -the man who was leading the animal.</p> - -<p>“No, sir, he isn’t; he’s getting old, and that’s the fact. He shows -it too.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose,” said Thorndyke, strolling towards the house by the man’s -side, “these beasts require a deal of attention?”</p> - -<p>“You’re right, sir; and nasty-tempered brutes they are.”</p> - -<p>“So I have heard; but they are interesting creatures, the camels and -lamas. Do you happen to know if complete sets of photographs of them -are to be had here?”</p> - -<p>“You can get a good many at the lodge, sir,” the man replied, “but -not all, I think. If you want a complete set, there’s one of our men -in the camel-house that could let you have them; he takes the photos -himself, and very clever he is at it, too. But he isn’t here just -now.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you could give me his name so that I could write to him,” -said Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir. His name is Woodthorpe—Joseph Woodthorpe. He’ll do -anything for you to order. Thank you, sir; good afternoon, sir;” and -pocketing an unexpected tip, the man led his charge towards its lair.</p> - -<p>Thorndyke’s absorbing interest in the camelidæ seemed now suddenly to -become extinct, and he suffered me to lead him to any part of the -gardens that attracted me, showing an imperial interest in all the -inmates from the insects to the elephants, and enjoying his -holiday—if it was one—with the gaiety and high spirits of a -schoolboy. Yet he never let slip a chance of picking up a stray hair -or feather, but gathered up each with care, wrapped it in its -separate paper, on which was written its description, and deposited -it in his tin collecting-box.</p> - -<p>“You never know,” he remarked, as we turned away from the ostrich -enclosure, “when a specimen for comparison may be of vital -importance. Here, for instance, is a small feather of a cassowary, -and here the hair of a wapiti deer; now the recognition of either of -those might, in certain circumstances, lead to the detection of a -criminal or save the life of an innocent man. The thing has happened -repeatedly, and may happen again tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>“You must have an enormous collection of hairs in your cabinet,” I -remarked, as we walked home.</p> - -<p>“I have,” he replied, “probably the largest in the world. And as to -other microscopical objects of medico-legal interest, such as dust -and mud from different localities and from special industries and -manufactures, fibres, food-products and drugs, my collection is -certainly unique.”</p> - -<p>“And you have found your collection useful in your work?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Constantly. Over and over again I have obtained, by reference to my -specimens, the most unexpected evidence, and the longer I practise, -the more I become convinced that the microscope is the sheet-anchor -of the medical jurist.”</p> - -<p>“By the way,” I said, “you spoke of sending a telegram to Belfield. -Did you send it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I asked him to come to see me to-night at half-past eight, and, -if possible, bring his wife with him. I want to get to the bottom of -that handkerchief mystery.”</p> - -<p>“But do you think he will tell you the truth about it?”</p> - -<p>“That is impossible to judge; he will be a fool if he does not. But I -think he will; he has a godly fear of me and my methods.”</p> - -<p>As soon as our dinner was finished and cleared away, Thorndyke -produced the “collecting-box” from his pocket and began to sort out -the day’s “catch,” giving explicit directions to Polton for the -disposal of each specimen. The hairs and small feathers were to be -mounted as microscopic objects, while the larger feathers were to be -placed, each in its separate labelled envelope, in its appropriate -box. While these directions were being given, I stood by the window -absently gazing out as I listened, gathering many a useful hint in -the technique of preparation and preservation, and filled with -admiration alike at my colleague’s exhaustive knowledge of practical -detail and the perfect manner in which he had trained his assistant. -Suddenly I started, for a well-known figure was crossing from Crown -Office Row and evidently bearing down on our chambers.</p> - -<p>“My word, Thorndyke,” I exclaimed, “here’s a pretty mess!”</p> - -<p>“What is the matter?” he asked, looking up anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Superintendent Miller heading straight for our doorway. And it is -now twenty minutes past eight.”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke laughed. “It will be a quaint position,” he remarked, “and -somewhat of a shock for Belfield. But it really doesn’t matter; in -fact, I think, on the whole, I am rather pleased that he should have -come.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent’s brisk knock was heard a few moments later, and -when he was admitted by Polton, he entered and looked round the room -a little sheepishly.</p> - -<p>“I am ashamed to come worrying you like this, sir,” he began -apologetically.</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” replied Thorndyke, serenely slipping the cassowary’s -feather into an envelope, and writing the name, date and locality on -the outside. “I am your servant in this case, you know. Polton, -whisky and soda for the superintendent.”</p> - -<p>“You see, sir,” continued Miller, “our people are beginning to fuss -about this case, and they don’t approve of my having handed that -handkerchief and the paper over to you as they will have to be put in -evidence.”</p> - -<p>“I thought they might object,” remarked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“So did I, sir; and they do. And, in short, they say that I have got -to get them back at once. I hope it won’t put you out, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Not in the least,” said Thorndyke. “I have asked Belfield to come -here to-night—I expect him in a few minutes—and when I have heard -what he has to say I shall have no further use for the handkerchief.”</p> - -<p>“You’re not going to show it to him!” exclaimed the detective, aghast.</p> - -<p>“Certainly I am.”</p> - -<p>“You mustn’t do that, sir. I can’t sanction it; I can’t indeed.”</p> - -<p>“Now, look you here, Miller,” said Thorndyke, shaking his forefinger -at the officer; “I am working for you in this case, as I have told -you. Leave the matter in my hands. Don’t raise silly objections; and -when you leave here to night you will take with you not only the -handkerchief and the paper, but probably also the name and address of -the man who committed this murder and those various burglaries that -you are so keen about.”</p> - -<p>“Is that really so, sir?” exclaimed the astonished detective. “Well, -you haven’t let the grass grow under your feet. Ah!” as a gentle rap -at the door was heard, “here’s Belfield, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>It was Belfield—accompanied by his wife—and mightily disturbed they -were when their eyes lighted on our visitor.</p> - -<p>“You needn’t be afraid of me, Belfield,” said Miller, with ferocious -geniality; “I am not here after you.” Which was not literally true, -though it served to reassure the affrighted ex-convict.</p> - -<p>“The superintendent dropped in by chance,” said Thorndyke; “but it is -just as well that he should hear what passes. I want you to look at -this handkerchief and tell me if it is yours. Don’t be afraid, but -just tell us the simple truth.”</p> - -<p>He took the handkerchief out of a drawer and spread it on the table; -and I now observed that a small square had been cut out of one of the -bloodstains.</p> - -<p>Belfield took the handkerchief in his trembling hands, and as his eye -fell on the stamped name in the corner he turned deadly pale.</p> - -<p>“It looks like mine,” he said huskily. “What do you say, Liz?” he -added, passing it to his wife.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belfield examined first the name and then the hem. “It’s yours, -right enough, Frank,” said she. “It’s the one that got changed in the -wash. You see, sir,” she continued, addressing Thorndyke, “I bought -him half-a-dozen new ones about six months ago, and I got a rubber -stamp made and marked them all. Well, one day when I was looking over -his things I noticed that one of his handkerchiefs had got no mark on -it. I spoke to the laundress about it, but she couldn’t explain it, -so as the right one never came back, I marked the one that we got in -exchange.”</p> - -<p>“How long ago was that?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“About two months ago I noticed it.”</p> - -<p>“And you know nothing more about it.”</p> - -<p>“Nothing whatever, sir. Nor you, Frank, do you?”</p> - -<p>Her husband shook his head gloomily, and Thorndyke replaced the -handkerchief in the drawer.</p> - -<p>“And now,” said he, “I am going to ask you a question on another -subject. When you were at Holloway there was a warder—or assistant -warder—there, named Woodthorpe. Do you remember him?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, very well indeed; in fact, it was him that——”</p> - -<p>“I know,” interrupted Thorndyke. “Have you seen him since you left -Holloway?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, once. It was last Easter Monday. I met him at the Zoo; he -is a keeper there now in the camel-house” (here a sudden light dawned -upon me and I chuckled aloud, to Belfield’s great astonishment). “He -gave my little boy a ride on one of the camels and made himself very -pleasant.”</p> - -<p>“Do you remember anything else happening?” Thorndyke inquired.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir. The camel had a little accident; he kicked out—he was an -ill-tempered beast—and his leg hit a post; there happened to be a -nail sticking out from that post, and it tore up a little flap of -skin. Then Woodthorpe got out his hand kerchief to tie up the wound, -but as it was none of the cleanest, I said to him: ‘Don’t use that, -Woodthorpe; have mine,’ which was quite a clean one. So he took it -and bound up the camel’s leg, and he said to me: ‘I’ll have it washed -and send it to you if you give me your address.’ But I told him there -was no need for that; I should be passing the camel-house on my way -out and I would look in for the handkerchief. And I did: I looked in -about an hour later, and Woodthorpe gave me my handkerchief, folded -up but not washed.”</p> - -<p>“Did you examine it to see if it was yours?” asked Thorndyke.</p> - -<p>“No, sir. I just slipped it in my pocket as it was.”</p> - -<p>“And what became of it afterwards?”</p> - -<p>“When I got home I dropped it into the dirty-linen basket.”</p> - -<p>“Is that all you know about it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; that is all I know.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, Belfield, that will do. Now you have no reason to be -uneasy. You will soon know all about the Camberwell murder—that is, -if you read the papers.”</p> - -<p>The ex-convict and his wife were obviously relieved by this assurance -and departed in quite good spirits. When they were gone, Thorndyke -produced the handkerchief and the half-sheet of paper and handed them -to the superintendent, remarking—</p> - -<p>“This is highly satisfactory, Miller; the whole case seems to join up -very neatly indeed. Two months ago the wife first noticed the -substituted handkerchief, and last Easter Monday—a little over two -months ago—this very significant incident took place in the -Zoological Gardens.”</p> - -<p>“That is all very well, sir,” objected the superintendent, “but we’ve -only their word for it, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Not so,” replied Thorndyke. “We have excellent corroborative -evidence. You noticed that I had cut a small piece out of the -bloodstained portion of the handkerchief?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; and I was sorry you had done it. Our people won’t like that.”</p> - -<p>“Well, here it is, and we will ask Dr. Jervis to give us his opinion -of it.”</p> - -<p>From the drawer in which the handkerchief had been hidden he brought -forth a microscope slide, and setting the microscope on the table, -laid the slide on the stage.</p> - -<p>“Now, Jervis,” he said, “tell us what you see there.”</p> - -<p>I examined the edge of the little square of fabric (which had been -mounted in a fluid reagent) with a high-power objective, and was, for -a time, a little puzzled by the appearance of the blood that adhered -to it.</p> - -<p>“It looks like bird’s blood,” I said presently, with some hesitation, -“but yet I can make out no nuclei.” I looked again, and then, -suddenly, “By Jove!” I exclaimed, “I have it; of course! It’s the -blood of a camel!”</p> - -<p>“Is that so, doctor?” demanded the detective, leaning forward in his -excitement.</p> - -<p>“That is so,” replied Thorndyke. “I discovered it after I came home -this morning. You see,” he explained, “it is quite unmistakable. The -rule is that the blood corpuscles of mammals are circular; the one -exception is the camel family, in which the corpuscles are -elliptical.”</p> - -<p>“Why,” exclaimed Miller, “that seems to connect Woodthorpe with this -Camberwell job.”</p> - -<p>“It connects him with it very conclusively,” said Thorndyke. “You are -forgetting the finger-prints.”</p> - -<p>The detective looked puzzled. “What about them?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“They were made with stamps—two stamps, as a matter of fact—and -those stamps were made by photographic process from the official -finger-print form. I can prove that beyond all doubt.”</p> - -<p>“Well, suppose they were. What then?”</p> - -<p>Thorndyke opened a drawer and took out a photograph, which he handed -to Miller. “Here,” he said, “is the photograph of the official -finger-print form which you were kind enough to bring me. What does -it say at the bottom there?” and he pointed with his finger.</p> - -<p>The superintendent read aloud: “Impressions taken by Joseph -Woodthorpe. Rank, Warder; Prison, Holloway.” He stared at the -photograph for a moment, and then exclaimed—</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m hanged! You <span class="calibre15">have</span> worked this out neatly, doctor! and so -quick too. We’ll have Mr. Woodthorpe under lock and key the first -thing to-morrow morning. But how did he do it, do you think?”</p> - -<p>“He might have taken duplicate finger-prints and kept one form; the -prisoners would not know there was anything wrong; but he did not in -this case. He must have contrived to take a photograph of the form -before sending it in—it would take a skilful photographer only a -minute or two with a suitable hand-camera placed on a table at the -proper distance from the wall; and I have ascertained that he is a -skilful photographer. You will probably find the apparatus, and the -stamps too, when you search his rooms.”</p> - -<p>“Well, well. You do give us some surprises, doctor. But I must be off -now to see about this warrant. Good-night, sir, and many thanks for -your help.”</p> - -<p>When the superintendent had gone we sat for a while looking at one -another in silence. At length Thorndyke spoke. “Here is a case, -Jervis,” he said, “which, simple as it is, teaches a most invaluable -lesson—a lesson which you should take well to heart. It is this: -<span class="calibre15">The evidential value of any fact is an unknown quantity until the -fact has been examined.</span> That seems a self-evident truth, but like -many other self-evident truths, it is constantly overlooked in -practice. Take this present case. When I left Caldwell’s house this -morning the facts in my possession were these: (1) The man who -murdered Caldwell was directly or indirectly connected with the -Finger-print Department. (2) He was almost certainly a skilled -photographer. (3) He probably committed the Winchmore Hill and the -other burglaries. (4) He was known to Caldwell, had had professional -dealings with him and was probably being blackmailed. This was all; a -very vague clue, as you see.</p> - -<p>“There was the handkerchief, planted, as I had no doubt, but could -not prove; the name stamped on it was Belfield’s, but any one can get -a rubber stamp made. Then it was stained with blood, as handkerchiefs -often are; that blood might or might not be human blood; it did not -seem to matter a straw whether it was or not. Nevertheless, I said to -myself: If it is human, or at least mammalian blood, that is a fact; -and if it is not human blood, that is also a fact. I will have that -fact, and then I shall know what its value is. I examined the stain -when I reached home, and behold! it was camel’s blood; and -immediately this insignificant fact swelled up into evidence of -primary importance. The rest was obvious. I had seen Woodthorpe’s -name on the form, and I knew several other officials. My business was -to visit all places in London where there were camels, to get the -names of all persons connected with them and to ascertain if any -among them was a photographer. Naturally I went first to the Zoo, and -at the very first cast hooked Joseph Woodthorpe. Wherefore I say -again: Never call any fact irrelevant until you have examined it.”</p> - -<p>The remarkable evidence given above was not heard at the trial, nor -did Thorndyke’s name appear among the witnesses; for when the police -searched Woodthorpe’s rooms, so many incriminating articles were -found (including a pair of finger-print stamps which exactly answered -to Thorndyke’s description of them, and a number of photographs of -finger-print forms) that his guilt was put beyond all doubt; and -society was shortly after relieved of a very undesirable member.</p> - -<p class="smcap1">THE END</p> - -<p> -</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Dr. Thorndyke, by -R. Austin Freeman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF DR. 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