Read Final Proof; Or, The Value of Evidence Page 2

  FINAL PROOF

  I

  THE PHOENIX OF CRIME

  I

  Mr. Mitchel was still at breakfast one morning, when the card of Mr.Barnes was brought to him by his man Williams.

  "Show Mr. Barnes in here," said he. "I imagine that he must be in ahurry to see me, else he would not call so early."

  A few minutes later the detective entered, saying:

  "It is very kind of you to let me come in without waiting. I hope that Iam not intruding."

  "Not at all. As to being kind, why I am kind to myself. I knew you musthave something interesting on hand to bring you around so early, and Iam proportionately curious; at the same time I hate to go without mycoffee, and I do not like to drink it too fast, especially good coffee,and this is good, I assure you. Draw up and have a cup, for I observethat you came off in such a hurry this morning that you did not getany."

  "Why, thank you, I will take some, but how do you know that I came offin a hurry and had no coffee at home? It seems to me that if you cantell that, you are becoming as clever as the famous Sherlock Holmes."

  "Oh, no, indeed! You and I can hardly expect to be as shrewd as thedetectives of romance. As to my guessing that you have had no coffee,that is not very troublesome. I notice three drops of milk on your coat,and one on your shoe, from which I deduce, first, that you have had nocoffee, for a man who has his coffee in the morning is not apt to drinka glass of milk besides. Second, you must have left home in a hurry, oryou would have had that coffee. Third, you took your glass of milk atthe ferry-house of the Staten Island boat, probably finding that you hada minute to spare; this is evident because the milk spots on the tailsof your frock-coat and on your shoe show that you were standing when youdrank, and leaned over to avoid dripping the fluid on your clothes. Hadyou been seated, the coat tails would have been spread apart, anddrippings would have fallen on your trousers. The fact that in spite ofyour precautions the accident did occur, and yet escaped your notice, isfurther proof, not only of your hurry, but also that your mind wasabstracted,--absorbed no doubt with the difficult problem about whichyou have come to talk with me. How is my guess?"

  "Correct in every detail. Sherlock Holmes could have done no better. Butwe will drop him and get down to my case, which, I assure you, is moreastounding than any, either in fact or fiction, that has come to myknowledge."

  "Go ahead! Your opening argument promises a good play. Proceed withoutfurther waste of words."

  "First, then, let me ask you, have you read the morning's papers?"

  "Just glanced through the death reports, but had gotten no further whenyou came in."

  "There is one death report, then, that has escaped your attention,probably because the notice of it occupies three columns. It is anothermetropolitan mystery. Shall I read it to you? I glanced through it inbed this morning and found it so absorbing that, as you guessed, Ihurried over here to discuss it with you, not stopping to get mybreakfast."

  "In that case you might better attack an egg or two, and let me read thearticle myself."

  Mr. Mitchel took the paper from Mr. Barnes, who pointed out to him thearticle in question, which, under appropriate sensational headlines,read as follows:

  * * * * *

  "The account of a most astounding mystery is reported to-day for thefirst time, though the body of the deceased, now thought to have beenmurdered, was taken from the East River several days ago. The facts areas follows. On Tuesday last, at about six o'clock in the morning,several boys were enjoying an early swim in the river near Eighty-fifthStreet, when one who had made a deep dive, on reaching the surfacescrambled out of the water, evidently terrified. His companions crowdedabout him asking what he had seen, and to them he declared that therewas a 'drownded man down there.' This caused the boys to lose allfurther desire to go into the water, and while they hastily scrambledinto their clothes they discussed the situation, finally deciding thatthe proper course would be to notify the police, one boy, however, wiserthan the others, declaring that he 'washed his hands of the affair' ifthey should do so, because he was not 'going to be held as no witness.'In true American fashion, nevertheless, the majority ruled, and in abody the boys marched to the station-house and reported their discovery.Detectives were sent to investigate, and after dragging the locality forhalf an hour the body of a man was drawn out of the water. The corpsewas taken to the Morgue, and the customary red tape was slowly unwound.At first the police thought that it was a case of accidental drowning,no marks of violence having been found on the body, which had evidentlybeen in the water but a few hours. Thus no special report of the casewas made in the press. Circumstances have developed at the autopsy,however, which make it probable that New Yorkers are to be treated toanother of the wonderful mysteries which occur all too frequently in themetropolis. The first point of significance is the fact, on which allthe surgeons agree, that the man was dead when placed in the water.Secondly, the doctors claim that he died of disease, and not from anycause which would point to a crime. This conclusion seems highlyimprobable, for who would throw into the water the body of one who haddied naturally, and with what object could such a singular course havebeen pursued? Indeed this claim of the doctors is so preposterous that asecond examination of the body has been ordered, and will occur to-day,when several of our most prominent surgeons will be present. The third,and by far the most extraordinary circumstance, is the allegedidentification of the corpse. It seems that one of the surgeonsofficiating at the first autopsy was attracted by a peculiar mark uponthe face of the corpse. At first it was thought that this was merely abruise caused by something striking the body while in the water, but acloser examination proved it to be a skin disease known as 'lichen.' Itappears that there are several varieties of this disease, some of whichare quite well known. That found on the face of the corpse, however, isa very rare form, only two other cases having been recorded in thiscountry. This is a fact of the highest importance in relation to theevents which have followed. Not unnaturally, the doctors became greatlyinterested. One of these, Dr. Elliot, the young surgeon who firstexamined it closely, having never seen any examples of lichen before,spoke of it that evening at a meeting of his medical society. Havinglooked up the literature relating to the disease in the interval, he wasenabled to give the technical name of this very rare form of thedisease. At this, another physician present arose, and declared that itseemed to him a most extraordinary coincidence that this case had beenreported, for he himself had recently treated an exactly similarcondition for a patient who had finally died, his death having occurredwithin a week. A lengthy and of course very technical discussion ensued,with the result that Dr. Mortimer, the physician who had treated thecase of the patient who had so recently died, arranged with Dr. Elliotto go with him on the following day and examine the body at the Morgue.This he did, and, to the great amazement of his colleague, he thendeclared, that the body before him was none other than that of his ownpatient, supposed to have been buried. When the authorities learned ofthis, they summoned the family of the deceased, two brothers and thewidow. All of these persons viewed the corpse separately, and eachdeclared most emphatically that it was the body of the man whose funeralthey had followed. Under ordinary circumstances, so complete anidentification of a body would leave no room for doubt, but what is tobe thought when we are informed by the family and friends of thedeceased that the corpse had been cremated? That the mourners had seenthe coffin containing the body placed in the furnace, and had waitedpatiently during the incineration? And that later the ashes of the deardeparted had been delivered to them, to be finally deposited in an urnin the family vault, where it still is with contents undisturbed? Itdoes not lessen the mystery to know that the body in the Morgue (or theashes at the cemetery) represents all that is left of one of our mostesteemed citizens, Mr. Rufus Quadrant, a gentleman who in life enjo
yedthat share of wealth which made it possible for him to connect his namewith so many charities; a gentleman whose family in the past and in thepresent has ever been and still is above the breath of suspicion.Evidently there is a mystery that will try the skill of our very bestdetectives."

  * * * * *

  "That last line reads like a challenge to the gentlemen of yourprofession," said Mr. Mitchel to Mr. Barnes as he put down the paper.

  "I needed no such spur to urge me to undertake to unravel this case,which certainly has most astonishing features."

  "Suppose we enumerate the important data and discover what reliablededuction may be made therefrom."

  "That is what I have done a dozen times, with no very satisfactoryresult. First, we learn that a man is found in the river upon whose facethere is a curious distinguishing mark in the form of one of the rarestof skin diseases. Second, a man has recently died who was similarlyafflicted. The attending physician declares upon examination that thebody taken from the river is the body of his patient. Third, the familyagree that this identification is correct. Fourth, this second dead manwas cremated. Query, how can a man's body be cremated, and then befound whole in the river subsequently? No such thing has been related infact or fiction since the beginning of the world."

  "Not so fast, Mr. Barnes. What of the Phoenix?"

  "Why, the living young Phoenix arose from the ashes of his deadancestor. But here we have seemingly a dead body re-forming from its ownashes, the ashes meanwhile remaining intact and unaltered. A manifestimpossibility."

  "Ah; then we arrive at our first reliable deduction, Mr. Barnes."

  "Which is?"

  "Which is that, despite the doctors, we have two bodies to deal with.The ashes in the vault represent one, while the body at the Morgue isanother."

  "Of course. So much is apparent, but you say the body at the Morgue isanother, and I ask you, which other?"

  "That we must learn. As you appear to be seeking my views in this case Iwill give them to you, though of course I have nothing but thisnewspaper account, which may be inaccurate. Having concluded beyond allquestion that there are two bodies in this case, our first effort mustbe to determine which is which. That is to say, we must discover whetherthis man, Rufus Quadrant, was really cremated, which certainly ought tobe the case, or whether, by some means, another body has been exchangedfor his, by accident or by design, and if so, whose body that was."

  "_If_ it turns out that the body at the Morgue is really that of Mr.Quadrant, then, of course, as you say, some other man's body wascremated, and----"

  "Why may it not have been a woman's?"

  "You are right, and that only makes the point to which I was about tocall your attention more forcible. If an unknown body has beenincinerated, how can we ever identify it?"

  "I do not know. But we have not arrived at that bridge yet. The firststep is to reach a final conclusion in regard to the body at the Morgue.There are several things to be inquired into, there."

  "I wish you would enumerate them."

  "With pleasure. First, the autopsy is said to have shown that the mandied a natural death, that is, that disease, and not one of hisfellow-beings, killed him. What disease was this, and was it the same asthat which caused the death of Mr. Quadrant? If the coroner's physiciansdeclared what disease killed the man, and named the same as that whichcarried off Mr. Quadrant, remembering that the body before them wasunknown, we would have a strong corroboration of the allegedidentification."

  "Very true. That will be easily learned."

  "Next, as to this lichen. I should think it important to know more ofthat. Is it because the two cases are examples of the same rare varietyof the disease, or was there something so distinct about the locationand area or shape of the diseased surface, that the doctor could notpossibly be mistaken?--for doctors do make mistakes, you know."

  "Yes, just as detectives do," said Mr. Barnes, smiling, as he made notesof Mr. Mitchel's suggestions.

  "If you learn that the cause of death was the same, and that the lichenwas not merely similar but identical, I should think that there could belittle reason for longer doubting the identification. But if not fullysatisfied by your inquiries along these lines, then it might be well tosee the family of Mr. Quadrant, and inquire whether they too depend uponthis lichen as the only means of identification, or whether, entirelyaside from that diseased spot, they would be able to swear that the bodyat the Morgue is their relative. You would have in connection with thisinquiry an opportunity to ask many discreet questions which might be ofassistance to you."

  "All of this is in relation to establishing beyond a doubt the identityof the body at the Morgue, and of course the work to that end willpractically be simple. In my own mind I have no doubt that the body ofMr. Quadrant is the one found in the water. Of course, as you suggest,it will be as well to know this rather than merely to think it. But onceknowing it, what then of the body which is now ashes?"

  "We must identify that also."

  "Identify ashes!" exclaimed Mr. Barnes. "Not an easy task."

  "If all tasks were easy, Mr. Barnes," said Mr. Mitchel, "we should havelittle need of talent such as yours. Suppose you follow my advice,provided you intend to accept it, as far as I have indicated, and thenreport to me the results."

  "I will do so with pleasure. I do not think it will occupy much time.Perhaps by luncheon, I----"

  "You could get back here and join me. Do so!"

  "In the meanwhile shall you do any--any investigating?"

  "I shall do considerable thinking. I will cogitate as to the possibilityof a Phoenix arising from those ashes."

  II

  Leaving Mr. Mitchel, Mr. Barnes went directly to the office of Dr.Mortimer, and after waiting nearly an hour was finally ushered into theconsulting-room.

  "Dr. Mortimer," said Mr. Barnes, "I have called in relation to thisremarkable case of Mr. Quadrant. I am a detective, and the extraordinarynature of the facts thus far published attracts me powerfully, so that,though not connected with the regular police, I am most anxious tounravel this mystery if possible, though, of course, I should do nothingthat would interfere with the regular officers of the law. I havecalled, hoping that you might be willing to answer a few questions."

  "I think I have heard of you, Mr. Barnes, and if, as you say, you willdo nothing to interfere with justice, I have no objection to tellingyou what I know, though I fear it is little enough."

  "I thank you, Doctor, for your confidence, which, I assure you, youshall not regret. In the first place, then, I would like to ask youabout this identification. The newspaper account states that you havedepended upon some skin disease. Is that of such a nature that you canbe absolutely certain in your opinion?"

  "I think so," said the doctor. "But then, as you must have found in yourlong experience, all identifications of the dead should be accepted witha little doubt. Death alters the appearance of every part of the body,and especially the face. We think that we know a man by the contour ofhis face, whereas we often depend, during life, upon the habitualexpressions which the face ever carries. For example, suppose that weknow a young girl, full of life and happiness, with a sunny dispositionundimmed by care or the world's worry. She is ever smiling, or ready tosmile. Thus we know her. Let that girl suffer a sudden and perhapspainful death. In terror and agony as she dies, the features aredistorted, and in death the resultant expression is somewhat stampedupon the features. Let that body lie in the water for a time, and whenrecovered it is doubtful whether all of her friends would identify her.Some would, but others would with equal positiveness declare that thesewere mistaken. Yet you observe the physical contours would still bepresent."

  "I am pleased, Doctor, by what you say," said Mr. Barnes, "because withsuch appreciation of the changes caused by death and exposure in thewater, I must lay greater reliance upon your identification. In thiscase, as I understand it, there is something peculiar about the body
, amark of disease called lichen, I believe?"

  "Yes. But what I have said about the changes caused by death must haveweight here also," said the doctor. "You see I am giving you all thepoints that may militate against my identification, that you may thebetter judge of its correctness. We must not forget that we are dealingwith a disease of very great rarity; so rare, in fact, that this verycase is the only one that I have ever seen. Consequently I cannot claimto be perfectly familiar with the appearance of surfaces attacked bythis disease, after they have suffered the possible alterations ofdeath."

  "Then you mean that, after all, this spot upon which the identificationrests does not now look as it did in life?"

  "I might answer both yes and no to that. Changes have occurred, but theydo not, in my opinion, prevent me from recognizing both the disease andthe corpse. To fully explain this I must tell you something of thedisease itself, if you will not be bored?"

  "Not at all. Indeed, I prefer to know all that you can make intelligibleto a layman."

  "I will use simple language. Formerly a great number of skin diseaseswere grouped under the general term 'lichen,' which included all growthswhich might be considered fungoid. At the present time we are fairlywell able to separate the animal from the vegetable parasitic diseases,and under the term 'lichen' we include very few forms. The most commonis _lichen planus_, which unfortunately is not infrequently met, and istherefore very well understood by the specialists. _Lichen ruber_,however, is quite distinct. It was first described by the German, Hebra,and has been sufficiently common in Europe to enable the students tothoroughly well describe it. In this country, however, it seems to beone of the rarest of diseases. White of Boston reported a case, and Foxrecords another, accompanied by a colored photograph, which, of course,aids greatly in enabling any one to recognize a case should it occur.There is one more fact to which I must allude as having an importantbearing upon my identification. _Lichen ruber_, like other lichens, isnot confined to any one part of the body; on the contrary, it would beremarkable, should the disease be uncontrolled for any length of time,not to see it in many places. This brings me to my point. The seat ofthe disease, in the case of Mr. Quadrant, was the left cheek, where amost disfiguring spot appeared. It happened that I was in constantattendance upon Mr. Quadrant for the trouble which finally caused hisdecease, and therefore I saw this lichen in its incipiency, and morefortunately I recognized its true nature. Now whether due to mytreatment or not, it is a fact that the disease did not spread; that isto say, it did not appear elsewhere upon the body."

  "I see! I see!" said Mr. Barnes, much pleased. "This is an importantpoint. For if the body at the Morgue exhibits a spot in that exactlocality and nowhere else, and if it is positively this same skindisease, it is past belief that it should be any other than the body ofyour patient."

  "So I argue. That two such unique examples of so rare a disease shouldoccur at the same time seems incredible, though remotely possible. Thus,as you have indicated, we have but to show that the mark on the body atthe Morgue is truly caused by this disease, and not by some abrasionwhile in the water, in order to make our opinion fairly tenable. BothDr. Elliot and myself have closely examined the spot, and we have agreedthat it is not an abrasion. Had the face been thus marked in the water,we should find the cuticle rubbed off, which is not the case.Contrarily, in the disease under consideration, the cuticle, thoughinvolved in the disease, and even missing in minute spots, ispractically present. No, I am convinced that the mark on the body at theMorgue existed in life as the result of this lichen, though thealteration of color since death gives us a much changed appearance."

  "Then I may consider that you are confident that this mark on the bodyis of the same shape, in the same position, and caused by the samedisease as that which you observed upon Mr. Quadrant?"

  "Yes. I do not hesitate to assert that. To this you may add that Iidentify the body in a general way also."

  "By which you mean?"

  "That without this mark, basing my opinion merely upon my longacquaintance with the man, I would be ready to declare that Mr.Quadrant's body is the one which was taken from the water."

  "What, then, is your opinion as to how this strange occurrence has comeabout? If Mr. Quadrant was cremated, how could----"

  "It could not, of course. This is not the age of miracles. Mr. Quadrantwas not cremated. Of that we may be certain."

  "But the family claim that they saw his body consigned to the furnace."

  "The family believe this, I have no doubt. But how could they be sure?Let us be accurate in considering what we call facts. What did thefamily see at the crematory? They saw a closed coffin placed into thefurnace."

  "A coffin, though, which contained the body of their relative."

  Mr. Barnes did not of course himself believe this, but made the remarkmerely to lead the doctor on.

  "Again you are inaccurate. Let us rather say a coffin which oncecontained the body of their relative."

  "Ah; then you think that it was taken from the coffin and anothersubstituted for it?"

  "No. I do not go so far. I think, nay, I am sure, that Mr. Quadrant'sbody was taken from the coffin, but whether another was substituted forit, is a question. The coffin may have been empty when burned."

  "Could we settle that point by an examination of the ashes?"

  The doctor started as though surprised at the question. After a littlethought he replied hesitatingly:

  "Perhaps. It seems doubtful. Ashes from bone and animal matter would, Isuppose, bring us chemical results different from those of burned wood.Whether our analytical chemists could solve such a problem remains to beseen. Ordinarily one would think that ashes would resist all efforts atidentification." The doctor seemed lost in thoughtful consideration ofthis scientific problem.

  "The trimmings of the coffin might contain animal matter if made ofwool," suggested Mr. Barnes.

  "True; that would certainly complicate the work of the chemist, andthrow doubt upon his reported results."

  "You admitted, Doctor, that the body was placed in the coffin. Do youknow that positively?"

  "Yes. I called on the widow on the night previous to the funeral, andthe body was then in the coffin. I saw it in company with the widow andthe two brothers. It was then that it was decided that the coffin shouldbe closed and not opened again."

  "Whose wish was this?"

  "The widow's. You may well understand that this lichen greatlydisfigured Mr. Quadrant, and that he was extremely sensitive about it.So much so that he had not allowed any one to see him for many weeksprior to his death. It was in deference to this that the widow expressedthe wish that no one but the immediate family should see him in hiscoffin. For this reason also she stipulated that the coffin should beburned with the body."

  "You say this was decided on the night before the funeral?"

  "Yes. To be accurate, about five o'clock in the afternoon, though atthis season and in the closed rooms the lamps were already lighted."

  "Was this known to many persons? That is, that the coffin was not againto be opened?"

  "It was known of course to the two brothers, and also to the undertakerand two of his assistants who were present."

  "The undertaker himself closed the casket, I presume?"

  "Yes. He was closing it as I escorted the widow back to her own room."

  "Did the brothers leave the room with you?"

  "I think so. Yes, I am sure of it."

  "So that the body was left with the undertaker and his men, after theyknew that it was not to be opened again?"

  "Yes."

  "Did these men leave before you did?"

  "No. I left almost immediately after taking the widow to her own roomand seeing her comfortably lying down, apparently recovered from thehysterical spell which I had been summoned to check. You know, ofcourse, that the Quadrant residence is but a block from here."

  "There is one more point, Doctor. Of what disease did Mr. Quadrant die?"

  "My diagnosis w
as what in common parlance I may call cancer of thestomach. This, of course, I only knew from the symptoms. That is to say,there had been no operation, as the patient was strenuously opposed tosuch a procedure. He repeatedly said to me, 'I would rather die than becut up.' A strange prejudice in these days of successful surgery, whenthe knife in skilful hands promises so much more than medication."

  "Still these symptoms were sufficient in your own mind to satisfy youthat your diagnosis was accurate?"

  "I can only say in reply that I have frequently in the presence ofsimilar symptoms performed an operation, and always with the sameresult. The cancer was always present."

  "Now the coroner's autopsy on the body at the Morgue is said to haveshown that death was due to disease. Do you know what they discovered?"

  "Dr. Elliot told me that it was cancer of the stomach."

  "Why, then, the identification seems absolute?"

  "So it seems. Yes."

  III

  Mr. Barnes next called at the home of the Quadrants, and was informedthat both of the gentlemen were out. With some hesitation he sent abrief note in to the widow, explaining his purpose and asking for aninterview. To his gratification his request was granted, and he wasshown up to that lady's reception-room.

  "I fear, madame," said he, "that my visit may seem an intrusion, but Itake the deepest sort of interest in this sad affair of your husband,and I would much appreciate having your permission and authority toinvestigate it, with the hope of discovering the wrong-doers."

  "I see by your note," said Mrs. Quadrant in a low, sad voice, "that youare a detective, but not connected with the police. That is why I havedecided to see you. I have declined to see the regular detective senthere by the police, though my husband's brothers, I believe, haveanswered all his questions. But as for myself, I felt that I could notplace this matter in the hands of men whom my husband always distrusted.Perhaps his prejudice was due to his politics, but he frequentlydeclared that our police force was corrupt. Thus you understand why I amreally glad that you have called, for I am anxious, nay, determined, todiscover if possible who it was who has done me this grievous wrong. Tothink that my poor husband was there in the river, when I thought thathis body had been duly disposed of. It is horrible, horrible!"

  "It is indeed horrible, madame," said Mr. Barnes sympathizingly. "But wemust find the guilty person or persons and bring them to justice."

  "Yes! That is what I wish. That is what I am ready to pay any sum toaccomplish. You must not consider you are working, as you courteouslyoffer, merely to satisfy your professional interest in a mysteriouscase. I wish you to undertake this as my special agent."

  "As you please, madame, but in that case I must make one condition. Iwould ask that you tell this to no one unless I find it necessary. Atpresent I think I can do better if I am merely regarded as a busybodydetective attracted by an odd case."

  "Why, certainly, no one need know. Now tell me what you think of thismatter."

  "Well, it is rather early to formulate an opinion. An opinion isdangerous. One is so apt to endeavor to prove himself right, whereas heought merely to seek out the truth. But if you have any opinion, it isnecessary for me to know it. Therefore I must answer you by asking thevery question which you have asked me. What do you think?"

  "I think that some one took the body of my husband from the coffin, andthat we burned an empty casket. But to guess what motive there could befor such an act would be beyond my mental abilities. I have thoughtabout it till my head has ached, but I can find no reason for such anunreasonable act."

  "Let me then suggest one to you, and then perhaps your opinion maybe more useful. Suppose that some person, some one who had theopportunity, had committed a murder. By removing the body of yourhusband, and replacing it with that of his victim, the evidences of hisown crime would be concealed. The discovery of your husband's body,even if identified, as it has been, could lead to little else thanmystification, for the criminal well knew that the autopsy would shownatural causes of death."

  "But what a terrible solution this is which you suggest! Why, no one hadaccess to the coffin except the undertaker and his two men!"

  "You naturally omit your two brothers, but a detective cannot make suchdiscrimination."

  "Why, of course I do not count them, for certainly neither of them couldbe guilty of such a crime as you suggest. It is true that Amos--but thatis of no consequence."

  "Who is Amos?" asked Mr. Barnes, aroused by the fact that Mrs. Quadranthad left her remark unfinished.

  "Amos is one of my brothers--my husband's brothers, I mean. AmosQuadrant was next in age, and Mark the youngest of the three. But, Mr.Barnes, how could one of the undertakers have made this exchange whichyou suggest? Certainly they could not have brought the dead body here,and my husband's body never left the house prior to the funeral."

  "The corpse which was left in place of that of your husband must havebeen smuggled into this house by some one. Why not by one of these men?How, is a matter for explanation later. There is one other possibilityabout which you may be able to enlighten me. What opportunity, if any,was there that this substitution may have occurred at the crematory?"

  "None at all. The coffin was taken from the hearse by our ownpall-bearers, friends all of them, and carried directly to the room intowhich the furnace opened. Then, in accordance with my special request,the coffin, unopened, was placed in the furnace in full view of allpresent."

  "Were you there yourself?"

  "Oh! no, no! I could not have endured such a sight. The cremation wasresorted to as a special request of my husband. But I am bitterlyopposed to such a disposition of the dead, and therefore remained athome."

  "Then how do you know what you have told me?--that there was no chancefor substitution at the crematory?"

  "Because my brothers and other friends have related all that occurredthere in detail, and all tell the same story that I have told you."

  "Dr. Mortimer tells me that you decided to have the coffin closedfinally on the evening prior to the funeral. With the casket closed, Ipresume you did not consider it necessary to have the usual watchers?"

  "Not exactly, though the two gentlemen, I believe, sat up through thenight, and occasionally visited the room where the casket was."

  "Ah! Then it would seem to have been impossible for any one to enter thehouse and accomplish the exchange, without being detected by one or bothof these gentlemen?"

  "Of course not," said Mrs. Quadrant, and then, realizing the necessarydeduction, she hastened to add: "I do not know. After all, they may nothave sat up through all the night."

  "Did any one enter the house that night, so far as you know?"

  "No one, except Dr. Mortimer, who stopped in about ten as he wasreturning from a late professional call. He asked how I was, and wenton, I believe."

  "But neither of the undertakers came back upon any excuse?"

  "Not to my knowledge."

  At this moment some one was heard walking in the hall below, and Mrs.Quadrant added:

  "I think that may be one of my brothers now. Suppose you go down andspeak to him. He would know whether any one came to the house during thenight. You may tell him that you have seen me, if you wish, and that Ihave no objection to your endeavoring to discover the truth."

  Mr. Barnes bade Mrs. Quadrant adieu and went down to the parlor floor.Not meeting any one, he touched a bell, and when the servant responded,asked for either of the gentlemen of the house who might have come in.He was informed that Mr. Mark Quadrant was in the library, and wasinvited to see him there.

  Mr. Mark Quadrant was of medium height, body finely proportioned, erectfigure, a well-poised head, keen, bright eyes, a decided blond, and worea Vandyke beard, close trimmed. He looked at Mr. Barnes in such a mannerthat the detective knew that whatever he might learn from this man wouldbe nothing that he would prefer to conceal, unless accidentallysurprised from him. It was necessary therefore to approach the subjectwith considera
ble circumspection.

  "I have called," said Mr. Barnes, "in relation to the mysteriouscircumstances surrounding the death of your brother."

  "Are you connected with the police force?" asked Mr. Quadrant.

  "No. I am a private detective."

  "Then you will pardon my saying that you are an intruder--an unwelcomeintruder."

  "I think not," said Mr. Barnes, showing no irritation at his reception."I have the permission of Mrs. Quadrant to investigate this affair."

  "Oh! You have seen her, have you?"

  "I have just had an interview with her."

  "Then your intrusion is more than unwelcome; it is an impertinence."

  "Why, pray?"

  "You should have seen myself or my brother, before disturbing a woman inthe midst of her grief."

  "I asked for you or your brother, but you were both away. It was onlythen that I asked to see Mrs. Quadrant."

  "You should not have done so. It was impertinent, I repeat. Why couldyou not have waited to see one of us?"

  "Justice cannot wait. Delay is often dangerous."

  "What have you to do with justice? This affair is none of yourbusiness."

  "The State assumes that a crime is an outrage against all its citizens,and any man has the right to seek out and secure the punishment of thecriminal."

  "How do you know that any crime has been committed?"

  "There can be no doubt about it. The removal of your brother's body fromhis coffin was a criminal act in itself, even if we do not take intoaccount the object of the person who did this."

  "And what, pray, was the object, since you are so wise?"

  "Perhaps the substitution of the body of a victim of murder, in orderthat the person killed might be incinerated."

  "That proposition is worthy of a detective. You first invent a crime,and then seek to gain employment in ferreting out what never occurred."

  "That hardly holds with me, as I have offered my service withoutremuneration."

  "Oh, I see. An enthusiast in your calling! A crank, in other words.Well, let me prick your little bubble. Suppose I can supply you withanother motive, one not at all connected with murder?"

  "I should be glad to hear you propound one."

  "Suppose that I tell you that though my brother requested that his bodyshould be cremated, both his widow and myself were opposed? Suppose thatI further state that my brother Amos, being older than I, assumed themanagement of affairs, and insisted that the cremation should occur? Andthen suppose that I admit that to thwart that, I removed the bodymyself?"

  "You ask me to suppose all this," said Mr. Barnes quietly. "In reply, Iask you, do you make such a statement?"

  "Why, no. I do not intend to make any statement, because I do notconsider that you have any right to mix yourself up in this affair. Itis my wish that the matter should be allowed to rest. Nothing could bemore repugnant to my feelings, or to my brother's, were he alive, poorfellow, than all this newspaper notoriety. I wish to see the bodyburied, and the mystery with it. I have no desire for any solution."

  "But, despite your wishes, the affair will be, must be, investigated.Now, to discuss your imaginary proposition, I will say that it is soimprobable that no one would believe it."

  "Why not, pray?"

  "First, because it was an unnatural procedure upon such an inadequatemotive. A man might kill his brother, but he would hardly desecrate hisbrother's coffin merely to prevent a certain form of disposing of thedead."

  "That is mere presumption. You cannot dogmatically state what mayactuate a man."

  "But in this case the means was inadequate to the end."

  "How so?"

  "If the combined wishes of yourself and the widow could not sway yourbrother Amos, who had taken charge of the funeral, how could you hopewhen the body should be removed from the river, that he would be moreeasily brought around to your wishes?"

  "The effort to cremate the body having failed once, he would not resistmy wishes in the second burial."

  "That is doubtful. I should think he would be so incensed by your act,that he would be more than ever determined that you should have no sayin the matter. But supposing that you believed otherwise, and that youwished to carry out this extraordinary scheme, you had no opportunity todo so."

  "Why not?"

  "I suppose, of course, that your brother sat up with the corpse throughthe night before the funeral."

  "Exactly. You suppose a good deal more than you know. My brother did notsit up with the corpse. As the coffin had been closed, there was no needto follow that obsolete custom. My brother retired before ten o'clock.I myself remained up some hours longer."

  Thus in the mental sparring Mr. Barnes had succeeded in learning onefact from this reluctant witness.

  "But even so," persisted the detective, "you would have found difficultyin removing the body from this house to the river."

  "Yet it was done, was it not?"

  This was unanswerable. Mr. Barnes did not for a moment place any faithin what this brother had said. He argued that had he done anything likewhat he suggested, he would never have hinted at it as a possibility.Why he did so was a puzzle. Perhaps he merely wished to make the affairseem more intricate, in the hope of persuading him to drop theinvestigation, being, as he had stated, honestly anxious to have thematter removed from the public gaze, and caring nothing about anyexplanation of how his brother's body had been taken from the coffin. Onthe other hand, there was a possibility which could not be entirelyoverlooked. He might really have been guilty of acting as he hadsuggested, and perhaps now told of it as a cunning way of causing thedetective to discredit such a solution of the mystery. Mr. Barnesthought it well to pursue the subject a little further.

  "Suppose," said he, "that it could be shown that the ashes now in theurn at the cemetery are the ashes of a human being?"

  "You will be smart if you can prove that," said Mr. Quadrant. "Ashesare ashes, I take it, and you will get little proof there. But since youdiscussed my proposition, I will argue with you about yours. You say,suppose the ashes are those of a human being. Very well, then, thatwould prove that my brother was cremated after all, and that I have beenguying you, playing with you as a fisherman who fools a fish withfeathers instead of real bait."

  "But what of the identification of the body at the Morgue?"

  "Was there ever a body at the Morgue that was not identified a dozentimes? People are apt to be mistaken about their friends after death."

  "But this identification was quite complete, being backed up byscientific reasons advanced by experts."

  "Yes, but did you ever see a trial where expert witnesses were called,that equally expert witnesses did not testify to the exact contrary? Letme ask you a question. Have you seen this body at the Morgue?"

  "Not yet."

  "Go and see it. Examine the sole of the left foot. If you do not find ascar three or four inches long the body is not that of my brother. Thisscar was the result of a bad gash made by stepping on a shell when inbathing. He was a boy at the time, and I was with him."

  "But, Mr. Quadrant," said Mr. Barnes, astonished by the new turn of theconversation, "I understood that you yourself admitted that theidentification was correct."

  "The body was identified by Dr. Mortimer first. My sister and my brotheragreed with the doctor, and I agreed with them all, for reasons of myown."

  "Would you mind stating those reasons?"

  "You are not very shrewd if you cannot guess. I want this matterdropped. Had I denied the identity of the body it must have remained atthe Morgue, entailing more newspaper sensationalism. By admitting theidentity, I hoped that the body would be given to us for burial, andthat the affair would then be allowed to die."

  "Then if, as you now signify, this is not your brother's body, whatshall I think of your suggestion that you yourself placed the body inthe river?"

  "What shall you think? Why, think what you like. That is your affair.The less you think about it, though, the better pleased I
should be. Andnow really I cannot permit this conversation to be prolonged. You mustgo, and if you please I wish that you do not come here again."

  "I am sorry that I cannot promise that. I shall come if I think itnecessary. This is your sister's house, I believe, and she has expresseda wish that I pursue this case to the end."

  "My sister is a fool. At any rate, I can assure you, you shall not getanother chance at me, so make the most of what information I have givenyou. Good morning."

  With these words Mr. Mark Quadrant walked out of the room, leaving Mr.Barnes alone.

  IV

  Mr. Barnes stood for a moment in a quandary, and then decided upon acourse of action. He touched the bell which he knew would call thebutler, and then sat down by the grate fire to wait. Almost immediatelyhis eye fell upon a bit of white paper protruding from beneath a smallrug, and he picked it up. Examining it closely, he guessed that it hadonce contained some medicine in powder form, but nothing in the shape ofa label, or traces of the powder itself, was there to tell what the drughad been.

  "I wonder," thought he, "whether this bit of paper would furnish me witha clue? I must have it examined by a chemist. He may discern by hismethods what I cannot detect with the naked eye."

  With this thought in his mind, he carefully folded the paper in itsoriginal creases and deposited it in his wallet. At that moment thebutler entered.

  "What is your name?" asked Mr. Barnes.

  "Thomas, sir," said the man, a fine specimen of the intelligent New Yorknegro. "Thomas Jefferson."

  "Well, Thomas, I am a detective, and your mistress wishes me to lookinto the peculiar circumstances which, as you know, have occurred. Areyou willing to help me?"

  "I'll do anything for the mistress, sir."

  "Very good. That is quite proper. Now, then, do you remember yourmaster's death?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "And his funeral?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "You know when the undertaker and his men came and went, and how often,I presume? You let them in and saw them?"

  "I let them in, yes, sir. But once or twice they went out without myknowing."

  "At five o'clock on the afternoon before the funeral, I am told thatMrs. Quadrant visited the room where the body was, and ordered that thecoffin should be closed for the last time. Did you know this?"

  "No, sir."

  "I understand that at that time the undertaker and two of his men werein the room, as were also the two Mr. Quadrants, Mrs. Quadrant, and thedoctor. Now, be as accurate as you can, and tell me in what order andwhen these persons left the house."

  "Dr. Mortimer went away, I remember, just after Mrs. Quadrant went toher room to lie down. Then the gentlemen went in to dinner, and I servedthem. The undertaker and one of his men left together just as dinner wasput on table. I remember that because the undertaker stood in the halland spoke a word to Mr. Amos just as he was entering the dining-room.Mr. Amos then turned to me, and said for me to show them out. I went tothe door with them, and then went back to the dining-room."

  "Ah! Then one of the undertaker's men was left alone with the body?"

  "I suppose so, unless he went away first. I did not see him go at all.But, come to think of it, he must have been there after the other twowent away."

  "Why?"

  "Because, when I let out the undertaker and his man, their wagon was atthe door, but they walked off and left it. After dinner it was gone, sothe other man must have gone out and driven off in it."

  "Very probably. Now, can you tell me this man's name? The last to leavethe house, I mean?"

  "I heard the undertaker call one 'Jack,' but I do not know which one."

  "But you saw the two men--the assistants, I mean. Can you not describethe one that was here last?"

  "Not very well. All I can say is that the one that went away with theundertaker was a youngish fellow without any mustache. The other was ashort, thick-set man, with dark hair and a stubby mustache. That is allI noticed."

  "That will be enough. I can probably find him at the undertaker's. Now,can you remember whether either of the gentlemen sat up with the corpsethat night?"

  "Both the gentlemen sat in here till ten o'clock. The body was acrossthe hall in the little reception-room near the front door. About ten thedoor-bell rang, and I let in the doctor, who stopped to ask after Mrs.Quadrant. He and Mr. Amos went up to her room. The doctor came down in afew minutes, alone, and came into this room to talk with Mr. Mark."

  "How long did he stay?"

  "I don't know. Not long, I think, because he had on his overcoat. ButMr. Mark told me I could go to bed, and he would let the doctor out. SoI just brought them a fresh pitcher of ice-water, and went to my ownroom."

  "That is all, then, that you know of what occurred that night?"

  "No, sir. There was another thing, that I have not mentioned to any one,though I don't think it amounts to anything."

  "What was that?"

  "Some time in the night I thought I heard a door slam, and the noisewoke me up. I jumped out of bed and slipped on some clothes and came asfar as the door here, but I did not come in."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I saw Mr. Amos in here, standing by the centre-table with alamp in his hand. He was looking down at Mr. Mark, who was fast asleepalongside of the table, with his head resting on his arm on the table."

  "Did you notice whether Mr. Amos was dressed or not?"

  "Yes, sir. That's what surprised me. He had all his clothes on."

  "Did he awaken his brother?"

  "No. He just looked at him, and then tiptoed out and went upstairs. Islipped behind the hall door, so that he would not see me."

  "Was the lamp in his hand one that he had brought down from his ownroom?"

  "No, sir. It was one that I had been ordered to put in the room wherethe coffin was, as they did not want the electric light turned on inthere all night. Mr. Amos went back into the front room, and left thelamp there before he went upstairs."

  "Do you know when Mr. Mark went up to his room? Did he remain downstairsall night?"

  "No, sir. He was in bed in his own room when I came around in themorning. About six o'clock, that was. But I don't know when he went tobed. He did not come down to breakfast, though, till nearly noon. Thefuneral was at two o'clock."

  "That is all, I think," said Mr. Barnes. "But do not let any one knowthat I have talked with you."

  "Just as you say, sir."

  As it was now nearing noon, Mr. Barnes left the house and hastened up toMr. Mitchel's residence to keep his engagement for luncheon. Arrivedthere, he was surprised to have Williams inform him that he had receiveda telephone message to the effect that Mr. Mitchel would not be at homefor luncheon.

  "But, Inspector," said Williams, "here's a note just left for you by amessenger."

  Mr. Barnes took the envelope, which he found inclosed the following fromMr. Mitchel:

  "FRIEND BARNES:--

  "Am sorry I cannot be home to luncheon. Williams will give you a bite. Ihave news for you. I have seen the ashes, and there is now no doubt thata body, a human body, was burned at the crematory that day. I do notdespair that we may yet discover whose body it was. More when I knowmore."

  V

  Mr. Barnes read this note over two or three times, and then folded itthoughtfully and put it in his pocket. He found it difficult to decidewhether Mr. Mitchel had been really detained, or whether he hadpurposely broken his appointment. If the latter, then Mr. Barnes feltsure that already he had made some discovery which rendered this casedoubly attractive to him, so much so that he had concluded to seek thesolution himself.

  "That man is a monomaniac," thought Mr. Barnes, somewhat nettled. "Icome here and attract his attention to a case that I know will affordhim an opportunity to follow a fad, and now he goes off and is workingthe case alone. It is not fair. But I suppose this is another challenge,and I must work rapidly to get at the truth ahead of him. We
ll, I willaccept, and fight it out."

  Thus musing, Mr. Barnes, who had declined Williams's offer to serveluncheon, left the house and proceeded to the shop of the undertaker.This man had a name the full significance of which had never come hometo him until he began the business of caring for the dead. He spelled itBerial, and insisted that the pronunciation demanded a long sound to the"i," and a strong accent on the middle syllable. But he was constantlyannoyed by the cheap wit of acquaintances, who with a significant titterwould call him either Mr. "Burial," or Mr. "Bury all."

  Mr. Barnes found Mr. Berial disengaged, undertakers, fortunately, notalways being rushed with business, and encountered no difficulty inapproaching his subject.

  "I have called, Mr. Berial," said the detective, "to get a littleinformation about your management of the funeral of Mr. Quadrant."

  "Certainly," said Mr. Berial; "any information I can give, you arewelcome to. Detective, I suppose?"

  "Yes; in the interest of the family," replied Mr. Barnes. "There aresome odd features of this case, Mr. Berial."

  "Odd?" said the undertaker. "Odd don't half cover it. It's the mostremarkable thing in the history of the world. Here I am, with anexperience in funerals covering thirty years, and I go and have a mandecently cremated, and, by hickory, if he ain't found floating in theriver the next morning. Odd? Why, there ain't any word to describe athing like that. It's devilish; that's the nearest I can come to it."

  "Well, hardly that," said Mr. Barnes, with a smile. "Of course, sinceMr. Quadrant's body has been found in the river, it never was cremated."

  "Who says so?" asked the undertaker, sharply. "Not cremated? Want to beton that? I suppose not. We can't make a bet about the dead. It wouldn'tbe professional. But Mr. Quadrant was cremated. There isn't any questionabout that point. Put that down as final."

  "But it is impossible that he should have been cremated, and thenreappear at the Morgue."

  "Just what I say. The thing's devilish. There's a hitch, of course. Butwhy should it be at my end, eh? Tell me that, will you? There's just asmuch chance for a mistake at the Morgue as at the funeral, isn't there?"This was said in a tone that challenged dispute.

  "What mistake could have occurred at the Morgue?" asked Mr. Barnes.

  "Mistaken identification," replied the undertaker so quickly that he hadevidently anticipated the question. "Mistaken identification. That'syour cue, Mr. Barnes. It's happened often enough before," he added, witha chuckle.

  "I scarcely think there can be a mistake of that character," said Mr.Barnes, thinking, nevertheless, of the scar on the foot. "Thisidentification is not merely one of recognition; it is supported byscientific reason, advanced by the doctors."

  "Oh! doctors make mistakes too, I guess," said Mr. Berial, testily."Look here, you're a detective. You're accustomed to weigh evidence.Now tell me, will you, how could this man be cremated, as I tell you hewas, and then turn up in the river? Answer that, and I'll argue withyou."

  "The question, of course, turns on the fact of the cremation. How do youknow that the body was in the coffin when it was consigned to thefurnace?"

  "How do I know? Why, ain't that my business? Who should know if I don't?Didn't I put the body in the coffin myself?"

  "Very true. But why could not some one have taken the body out after youclosed the coffin finally, and before the hour of the funeral?"

  Mr. Berial laughed softly to himself, as though enjoying a joke too goodto be shared too soon with another. Presently he said:

  "That's a proper question, of course; a very proper question, and I'llanswer it. But I must tell you a secret, so you may understand it. Yousee in this business we depend a good deal on the recommendation of theattending physician. Some doctors are real professional, and recommend aman on his merits. Others are different. They expect a commission.Surprises you, don't it? But it's done every day in this town. Thedoctor can't save his patient, and the patient dies. Then he tells thesorrowing friends that such and such an undertaker is the proper partyto hide away the result of his failure; failure to cure, of course. Indue time he gets his little check, ten per cent. of the funeral bill.This seems like wandering away from the point, but I am coming back toit. This commission arrangement naturally keeps me on the books ofcertain doctors, and vicy versy it keeps them on mine. So, working forcertain doctors, it follows that I work for a certain set of people. NowI've a Catholic doctor on my books, and it happens that the cemeterywhere that church buries is in a lonesome place; just the spot for agrave-robber to work undisturbed, especially if the watchman out thereshould happen to be fond of his tipple, which I tell you, again inconfidence, that he is. Now, then, it has happened more than once,though it has been kept quiet, that a grave filled up one afternoonwould be empty the next morning. At least the body would be gone. Ofcourse they wouldn't take the coffin, as they'd be likely to be caughtgetting rid of it. You see, a coffin ain't exactly regular householdfurniture. If they have time they fill the grave again, but often enoughthey're too anxious to get away, because, of course, the watchman mightnot be drunk. Well, these things being kept secret, but still prettywell known in the congregation, told in whispers, I might say, a sort ofdemand sprung up for a style of coffin that a grave-robber couldn'topen,--a sort of coffin with a combination lock, as it were."

  "You don't mean to say--" began Mr. Barnes, greatly interested at lastin the old man's rather lengthy speech. He was interrupted by theundertaker, who again chuckled as he exclaimed:

  "Don't I? Well, I do, though. Of course I don't mean there's really acombination lock. That would never do. We often have to open the coffinfor a friend who wants to see the dead face again, or for folks thatcome to the funeral late. It's funny, when you come to think of it, howfolks will be late to funerals. As they only have this last visit tomake, you'd think they'd make it a point to be on time and not delay thefuneral. But about the way I fasten a coffin. If any grave-robbertackles one of my coffins without knowing the trick, he'd be astonished,I tell you. I often think of it and laugh. You see, there's a dozenscrews and they look just like ordinary screws. But if you work them allout with a screw-driver, your coffin lid is just as tight as ever. Yousee, it's this way. The real screw works with a reverse thread, and ishollow on the top. Now I have a screw-driver that is really a screw.When the screw-threaded end of this is screwed into the hollow end ofthe coffin-bolt, as soon as it is in tight it begins to unscrew thebolt. To put the bolt in, in the first place, I first screw it tight onto my screw-driver, and then drive it in, turning backwards, and as soonas it is tight my screw-driver begins to unscrew and so comes out. ThenI drop in my dummy screw, and just turn it down to fill the hole. Nowthe dummy screw and the reverse thread of the real bolt is a puzzle fora grave-robber, and anyway he couldn't solve it without one of my owntools."

  Mr. Barnes reflected deeply upon this as a most important statement. IfMr. Quadrant's coffin was thus fastened, no one could have opened itwithout the necessary knowledge and the special screw-driver. Herecalled that the butler had told him that one of Mr. Berial's men hadbeen at the house after the departure of the others. This man wastherefore in the position to have opened the coffin, supposing that hehad had one of the screw-drivers. Of this it would be well to learn.

  "I suppose," said Mr. Barnes, "that the coffin in which you placed Mr.Quadrant was fastened in this fashion?"

  "Yes; and I put the lid on and fastened it myself."

  "What, then, did you do with the screw-driver? You might have left it atthe house."

  "I might have, but I didn't. No; I'm not getting up a combination andthen leaving the key around loose. No, sir; there's only one of thosescrew-drivers, and I take care of it myself. I'll show it to you."

  The old man went to a drawer, which he unlocked, and brought back thetool.

  "You see what it is," he continued--"double-ended. This end is just thecommon every-day screw-driver. That is for the dummies that fill up thehollow ends after the bolts are sent home. The other end, you see, looksjust like a
n ordinary screw with straight sides. There's a shoulder tokeep it from jamming. Now that's the only one of those, and I keep itlocked in that drawer with a Yale lock, and the key is always in mypocket. No; I guess that coffin wasn't opened after I shut it."

  Mr. Barnes examined the tool closely, and formed his own conclusions,which he thought best to keep to himself.

  "Yes," said he aloud; "it does seem as though the mistake must be in theidentification."

  "What did I tell you?" exclaimed Mr. Berial, delighted at thinking thathe had convinced the detective. "Oh, I guess I know my business."

  "I was told at the house," said Mr. Barnes, "that when you left, afterclosing the coffin, one of your men stayed behind. Why was that?"

  "Oh, I was hungry and anxious to get back for dinner. One of my men,Jack, I brought away with me, because I had to send him up to anotherplace to get some final directions for another funeral. The other manstayed behind to straighten up the place and bring off our things in thewagon."

  "Who was this man? What is his name?"

  "Jerry, we called him. I don't know his last name."

  "I would like to have a talk with him. Can I see him?"

  "I am afraid not. He isn't working with me any more."

  "How was that?"

  "He left, that's all. Threw up his job."

  "When was that?"

  "This morning."

  "This morning?"

  "Yes; just as soon as I got here, about eight o'clock."

  Mr. Barnes wondered whether there was any connection between this man'sgiving up his position, and the account of the discoveries in regard toMr. Quadrant's body which the morning papers had published.

  VI

  "Mr. Berial," said Mr. Barnes after a few moments' thought, "I wish youwould let me have a little talk with your man--Jack, I think you calledhim. And I would like to speak to him alone if you don't mind. I feelthat I must find this other fellow, Jerry, and perhaps Jack may be ableto give me some information as to his home, unless you can yourself tellme where he lives."

  "No; I know nothing about him," said Mr. Berial. "Of course you canspeak to Jack. I'll call him in here and I'll be off to attend to somebusiness. That will leave you alone with him."

  Jack, when he came in, proved to be a character. Mr. Barnes soondiscovered that he had little faith in the good intentions of any one inthe world except himself. He evidently was one of those men who gothrough life with a grievance, feeling that all people have in some waycontributed to their misfortune.

  "Your name is Jack," said Mr. Barnes; "Jack what?"

  "Jackass, you might say," answered the fellow, with a coarse attempt atwit.

  "And why, pray?"

  "Well, a jackass works like a slave, don't he? And what does he get outof it? Lots of blows, plenty of cuss words, and a little fodder. It'sthe same with yours truly."

  "Very well, my man, have your joke. But now tell me your name. I am adetective."

  "The devil a much I care for that. I ain't got nothin' to hide. Myname's Randal, if you must have it. Jack Randal."

  "Very good. Now I want to ask you a few questions about the funeral ofMr. Quadrant."

  "Ask away. Nobody's stoppin' you."

  "You assisted in preparing the body for the coffin, I think?"

  "Yes, and helped to put him in it."

  "Have you any idea how he got out of it again?" asked Mr. Barnessuddenly.

  "Nit. Leastways, not any worth mentionin', since I can't prove what Imight think."

  "But I should like to know what you think, anyway," persisted thedetective.

  "Well, I think he was took out," said Randal with a hoarse laugh.

  "Then you do not believe that he was cremated?"

  "Cremated? Not on your life. If he was made into ashes, would he turn upagain a floater and drift onto the marble at the Morgue? I don'tthink."

  "But how could the body have gotten out of the coffin?"

  "He couldn't. I never saw a stiff do that, except once, at an Irishwake, and that fellow wasn't dead. No, the dead don't walk. Not thesedays. I tell you, he was took out of the box. That's as plain as yournose, not meanin' to be personal."

  "Come, come, you have said all that before. What I want to know is, howyou think he could have been taken out of the coffin."

  "Lifted out, I reckon."

  Mr. Barnes saw that nothing would be gained by getting angry, though thefellow's persistent flippancy annoyed him extremely. He thought best toappear satisfied with his answers, and to endeavor to get hisinformation by slow degrees, since he could not get it more directly.

  "Were you present when the coffin lid was fastened?"

  "Yes; the boss did that."

  "How was it fastened? With the usual style of screws?"

  "Oh, no! We used the boss's patent screw, warranted to keep the corpsesecurely in his grave. Once stowed away in the boss's patent screw-topcasket, no ghost gets back to trouble the long-suffering family."

  "You know all about these patent coffin-screws?"

  "Why, sure. Ain't I been working with old Berial these three years?"

  "Does Mr. Berial always screw on the coffin lids himself?"

  "Yes; he's stuck on it."

  "He keeps the screw-driver in his own possession?"

  "So he thinks."

  "What do you mean?" asked Mr. Barnes, immediately attentive.

  "Just what I say. Old Berial thinks he's got the only screw-driver."

  "But you know that there is another?"

  "Who says so? I don't know anything of the sort."

  "Why, then, do you cast a doubt upon the matter by saying that Mr.Berial thinks he has the only one?"

  "Because I do doubt it, that's all."

  "Why do you doubt it?"

  "Oh, I don't know. A fellow can't always account for what he thinks, canhe?"

  "You must have some reason for thinking there may be a duplicate of thatscrew-driver."

  "Well, what if I have?"

  "I would like to know it."

  "No doubt! But it ain't right to cast suspicions when you can't prove athing, is it?"

  "Perhaps others may find the proof."

  "Just so. People in your trade are pretty good at that, I reckon."

  "Good at what?"

  "Proving things that don't exist."

  "But if your suspicion is groundless, there can be no harm in telling itto me."

  "Oh, there's grounds enough for what I think. Look here, suppose a case.Suppose a party, a young female party, dies. Suppose her folks thinkthey'd like to have her hands crossed on her breast. Suppose a man, me,for instance, helps the boss fix up that young party with her handscrossed, and suppose there's a handsome shiner, a fust-water diamond, onone finger. Suppose we screw down that coffin lid tight at night, andthe boss carts off his pet screw-driver. Then suppose next day, when heopens that coffin for the visitors to have a last look at the youngperson, that the other man, meanin' me, happens to notice that theshiner is missin'. If no other person notices it, that's because they'retoo busy grievin'. But that's the boss's luck, I say. The diamond'sgone, just the same, ain't it? Now, you wouldn't want to claim that theyoung person come out of that patent box and give that diamond away inthe night, would you? If she come out at all, I should say it was in theform of a ghost, and I never heard of ghosts wearin' diamonds, or givin'away finger rings. Did you?"

  "Do you mean to say that such a thing as this has occurred?"

  "Oh, I ain't sayin' a word. I don't make no accusations. You can drawyour own conclusions. But in a case like that you would think there wasmore than one of them screw-drivers, now, wouldn't you?"

  "I certainly should, unless we imagined that Mr. Berial himself returnedto the house and stole the ring. But that, of course, is impossible."

  "Is it?"

  "Why, would you think that Mr. Berial would steal?"

  "Who knows? We're all honest, till we're caught."

  "Tell me this. If Mr. B
erial keeps that screw-driver always in his ownpossession, how could any one have a duplicate of it made?"

  "Dead easy. If you can't see that, you're as soft as the old man."

  "Perhaps I am. But tell me how it could be done."

  "Why, just see. That tool is double-ended. But one end is just a common,ordinary screw-driver. You don't need to imitate that. The other end isjust a screw that fits into the thread at the end of the bolts. Now oldBerial keeps his precious screw-driver locked up, but the bolts layaround by the gross. Any man about the place could take one and have ascrew cut to fit it, and there you are."

  This was an important point, and Mr. Barnes was glad to have drawn itout. It now became only too plain that the patented device was nohindrance to any one knowing of it, and especially to one who had accessto the bolts. This made it the more necessary to find the man Jerry.

  "There was another man besides yourself who assisted at the Quadrantfuneral, was there not?" asked Mr. Barnes.

  "There was another man, but he didn't assist much. He was no good."

  "What was this man's name?"

  "That's why I say he's no good. He called himself Jerry Morton, but itdidn't take me long to find out that his name was really Jerry Morgan.Now a man with two names is usually a crook, to my way of thinkin'."

  "He gave up his job here this morning, did he not?"

  "Did he?"

  "Yes. Can you tell why he should have done so? Was he not well enoughpaid?"

  "Too well, I take it. He got the same money I do, and I done twice asmuch work. So he's chucked it, has he? Well, I shouldn't wonder if therewas good reason."

  "What reason?"

  "Oh, I don't know. That story about old Quadrant floatin' back was inthe papers to-day, wasn't it?"

  "Yes."

  "Very well. There you are."

  "You mean that this man Morgan might have had a hand in that?"

  "Oh, he had a hand in it all right. So did I and the boss, for thatmatter. But the boss and me left him screwed tight in his box, and Jerryhe was left behind to pick up, as it were. And he had the wagon too.Altogether, I should say he had the chance if anybody. But mind you, Iain't makin' no accusations."

  "Then, if Jerry did this, he must have had a duplicate screw-driver?"

  "You're improvin', you are. You begin to see things. But I never seenhim with no screw-driver, remember that."

  "Was he in Mr. Berial's employment at the time of the other affair?"

  "What other affair?"

  "The case of the young lady from whose finger the diamond ring wasstolen."

  "Oh, that. Why, he might have been, of course, but then, you know, wewas only supposin' a case there. We didn't say that was a real affair."Randal laughed mockingly.

  "Have you any idea as to where I could find this man Morgan?"

  "I don't think you will find him."

  "Why not?"

  "Skipped, I guess. He wouldn't chuck this job just to take a holiday."

  "Do you know where he lived?"

  "Eleventh Avenue near Fifty-fourth Street. I don't know the number, butit was over the butcher shop."

  "If this man Morgan did this thing, can you imagine why he did it?"

  "For pay; you can bet on that. Morgan ain't the man as would take a risklike that for the fun of the thing."

  "But how could he hope to be paid for such an act?"

  "Oh, he wouldn't hope. You don't know Jerry. He'd be paid, part inadvance anyway, and balance on demand."

  "But who would pay him, and with what object?"

  "Oh, I don't know. But let me tell you something. Them brothers weren'tall so lovin' to one another as the outside world thinks. In the fustplace, as I gathered by listenin' to the talk of the servants, the onethey called Amos didn't waste no love on the dead one, though I guessthe other one, Mark, liked him some. I think he liked the widow evenbetter." Here he laughed. "Now the dead man wanted to be cremated--thatis, he said so before he was dead. The widow didn't relish the idea, butshe ain't strong-minded enough to push her views. Now we'll suppose acase again. I like that style, it don't commit you to anything. Well,suppose this fellow Mark thinks he'll get into the good graces of thewidow by hindering the cremation. He stands out agin it. Amos he saysthe old fellow wanted to be burned, and let him burn. 'He'll burn inhell, anyway.' That nice, sweet remark he did make, I'll tell you thatmuch. Then the brothers they quarrel. And a right good row they didhave, so I hear. Now we'll suppose again. Why couldn't our friend, Mr.Mark, have got up this scheme to stop the cremation?"

  Mr. Barnes was startled to hear this man suggest exactly what Markhimself had hinted at. Could it be only a coincidence or was it reallythe solution of the mystery? But if so, what of the body that was reallycremated? But then again the only evidence in his possession on thatpoint was the bare statement in the note received from Mr. Mitchel. Twoconstructions could be placed upon that note. First, it might have beenhonestly written by Mr. Mitchel, who really believed what he wrote,though, smart as he was, he might have been mistaken. Secondly, the notemight merely have been written to send Mr. Barnes off on a wrong clue,thus leaving Mr. Mitchel a chance to follow up the right one. Resuminghis conversation with Randal, Mr. Barnes said:

  "Then you imagine that Mr. Mark Quadrant hired this man Morgan to takeaway the body and hide it until after the funeral?"

  "Oh, I don't know. All I'll say is, I don't think Jerry would be toogood for a little job like that. Say, you're not a bad sort, asdetectives go. I don't mind givin' you a tip."

  "I am much obliged, I am sure," said Mr. Barnes, smiling at the fellow'spresumption.

  "Don't mention it. I make no charge. But see. Have you looked at thecorpse at the Morgue?"

  "No. Why?"

  "Well, I stopped in this morning and had a peep at him. I guess it'sQuadrant all right."

  "Have you any special way of knowing that?"

  "Well, when the boss was injectin' the embalmin' fluid, he stuck theneedle in the wrong place first, and had to put it in again. That madetwo holes. They're both there. You might wonder why we embalmed a bodythat was to be cremated. You see, we didn't know the family wasn't goingto let him be seen, and we was makin' him look natural."

  "And you are sure there are two punctures in the body at the Morgue?"

  "Dead sure. That's a joke. But that ain't the tip I want to give you.This is another case of diamond rings."

  "You mean that there were diamond rings left on the hand when the bodywas placed in the coffin?"

  "One solitaire; a jim dandy. And likewise a ruby, set deep like acarbuncle, I think they call them other red stones. Then on the littlefinger of the other hand there was a solid gold ring, with a flat top toit, and a letter 'Q' in it, made of little diamonds. Them rings neverreached the Morgue."

  "But even so, that does not prove that they were taken by the man whoremoved the corpse from the coffin. They might have been taken by thosewho found the body in the river."

  "Nit. Haven't you read the papers? Boys found it, but they called in thepolice to get it out of the water. Since then the police has been incharge. Now I ain't got none too good an opinion of the police myself,but they don't rob the dead. They squeeze the livin', all right, but notthe dead. Put that down. You can believe, if you like, that Jerry cartedthat body off to the river and dumped it in, diamond rings and all. Butas I said before, you don't know Jerry. No, sir, if I was you, I'd findthem rings, and find out how they got there. And maybe I can help youthere, too,--that is, if you'll make it worth my while."

  Mr. Barnes understood the hint and responded promptly:

  "Here is a five-dollar bill," said he. "And if you really tell meanything that aids me in finding the rings, I will give you ten more."

  "That's the talk," said Randal, taking the money. "Well, it's this way.You'll find that crooks, like other fly birds, has regular haunts. Now Ihappen to know that Jerry spouted his watch, a silver affair, but a goodtimer, once, and I take it he'd carry the rings where he's known,'speciall
y as I'm pretty sure the pawnbroker ain't over inquisitiveabout where folks gets the things they borrow on. If I was you, I'd trythe shop on Eleventh Avenue by Fiftieth Street. It don't look like arich place, but that kind don't want to attract too much attention."

  "I will go there. I have no doubt that if he took the rings we will findthem at that place. One thing more. How was Mr. Quadrant dressed whenyou placed him in the coffin? The newspapers make no mention of theclothing found on him."

  "Oh, we didn't dress him. You see, he was to be burned, so we justshrouded him. Nothin' but plain white cloth. No buttons or nothin' thatwouldn't burn up. The body at the Morgue was found without no clothesof any kind. I'd recognize that shroud, though, if it turns up. Sothere's another point for you."

  "One thing more. You are evidently sure that Mr. Quadrant's body wastaken out of the coffin. Do you think, then, that the coffin was emptywhen they took it to the crematory?"

  "Why, sure! What could there be in it?"

  "Suppose I were to tell you that another detective has examined theashes and declares that he can prove that a human body was burned withthat coffin. What would you say?"

  "I'd say he was a liar. I'd say he was riggin' you to get you off thescent. No, sir! Don't you follow no such blind trail as that."

  VII

  As Mr. Barnes left the undertaker's shop he observed Mr. Burrows comingtowards him. It will be recalled that this young detective, nowconnected with the regular police force of the metropolis, had earlierin life been a _protege_ of Mr. Barnes. It was not difficult to guessfrom his being in this neighborhood that to him had been intrusted aninvestigation of the Quadrant mystery.

  "Why, hello, Mr. Barnes," Mr. Burrows exclaimed, as he recognized hisold friend. "What are you doing about here? Nosing into this Quadrantmatter, I'll be bound."

  "It is an attractive case," replied Mr. Barnes, in non-committallanguage. "Are you taking care of it for the office?"

  "Yes; and the more I look into it the more complicated I find it. If youare doing any work on it, I wouldn't mind comparing notes."

  "Very well, my boy," said Mr. Barnes, after a moment's thought, "I willconfess that I have gone a little way into this. What have you done?"

  "Well, in the first place, there was another examination by the doctorsthis morning. There isn't a shadow of doubt that the man at the Morguewas dead when thrown into the water. What's more, he died in his bed."

  "Of what disease?"

  "Cancer of the stomach. Put that down as fact number one. Fact numbertwo is that the mark on his face is exactly the same, and from the sameskin disease that old Quadrant had. Seems he also had a cancer, so Itake it the identification is complete; especially as the family say itis their relative."

  "Do they all agree to that?"

  "Why, yes--that is, all except the youngest brother. He says he guessesit's his brother. Something about that man struck me as peculiar."

  "Ah! Then you have seen him?"

  "Yes. Don't care to talk to detectives. Wants the case hushed up; saysthere's nothing in it. Now I know there is something in it, and I am notsure he tells all he knows."

  "Have you formed any definite conclusion as to the motive in thiscase?"

  "The motive for what?"

  "Why, for removing the body from the coffin."

  "Well, I think the motive of the man who did it was money. What themotive of the man who hired him was, I can't prove yet."

  "Oh! Then you think there are two in it?"

  "Yes; I'm pretty sure of that. And I think I can put my finger on theman that made the actual transfer."

  The two men were walking as they talked, Mr. Burrows having turned andjoined the older detective. Mr. Barnes was surprised to find his friendadvancing much the same theory as that held by Randal. He was moreastonished, however, at the next reply elicited. He asked:

  "Do you mind naming this man?"

  "Not to you, if you keep it quiet till I'm ready to strike. I'm prettysure that the party who carried the body away and put it in the riverwas the undertaker's assistant, a fellow who calls himself Randal."

  Mr. Barnes started, but quickly regained his self-control. Then he said:

  "Randal? Why, how could he have managed it?"

  "Easily enough. It seems that the coffin was closed at five on theafternoon before the funeral, and the undertaker was told, in thepresence of this fellow Randal, that it would not be opened again. Thenthe family went in to dine, and Berial and the other man, a fellow withan alias, but whose true name is Morgan, left the house, the other one,Randal, remaining behind to clear up. The undertaker's wagon was alsothere, and Randal drove it to the stables half an hour or so later."

  Mr. Barnes noted here that there was a discrepancy between the facts asrelated by Mr. Burrows and as he himself had heard them. He had beentold by Berial himself that it was "Jack" who had left the house withhim, while Burrows evidently believed that it was Jack Randal who hadbeen left behind. It was important, therefore, to learn whether thereexisted any other reason for suspecting Randal rather than Morgan.

  "But though he may have had this opportunity," said Mr. Barnes, "youwould hardly connect him with this matter without corroborativeevidence."

  "Oh, the case is not complete yet," said Mr. Burrows; "but I have hadthis fellow Randal watched for three days. We at the office knew aboutthis identification before the newspapers got hold of it, be sure ofthat. Now one curious thing that he has done was to attempt to destroysome pawn-tickets."

  "Pawn-tickets?"

  "Yes. I was shadowing him myself last night, when I saw him tear up somepaper and drop the pieces in the gutter at the side of the pavement. Ilet my man go on, for the sake of recovering those bits of paper. Ittook some perseverance and no little time, but I found them, and whenput together, as I have said, they proved to be pawn-tickets."

  "Have you looked at the property represented yet?"

  "No. Would you like to go with me? We'll go together. I was about tomake my first open appearance at the undertaker's shop to face thisfellow, when you met me. But there's time enough for that. We'll go andlook at the rings if you say the word."

  "Rings, are they?" said Mr. Barnes. "Why, I would like nothing better.They might have been taken from the corpse."

  "Haven't a doubt of it," said Mr. Burrows. "Here are the pawn-tickets.There are two of them. Both for rings." He handed the two pawn-ticketsto Mr. Barnes. The pieces had been pasted on another bit of paper andthe two were consequently now on a single sheet. Mr. Barnes looked atthem closely and then said:

  "Why, Burrows, these are made out in the name of Jerry Morgan. Are yousure you have made no mistake in this affair?"

  "Mistake? Not a bit of it. That fellow thinks he is smart, but I don'tagree with him. He imagines that we might guess that one of those whohad the handling of the body did this job, and when he pawned the ringshe just used the other fellow's name. It's an old trick, and not verygood, either."

  Mr. Barnes was not entirely convinced, though the theory was possible,nay, plausible. In which case, the tip which Randal had given to Mr.Barnes was merely a part of his rather commonplace scheme ofself-protection at the expense of a fellow-workman. He was glad now thathe had met Burrows, for his possession of the pawn-tickets made it easyto visit the pawnbroker and see the rings; while his connection with theregular force would enable him to seize them should they prove to havebeen stolen from the body of Mr. Quadrant. It was noteworthy that thepawn-tickets had been issued by the man to whose place Randal haddirected him. Arrived there, Mr. Burrows demanded to see the rings, towhich the pawnbroker at first demurred, arguing that the tickets hadbeen torn, that they had not been issued to the one presenting them, andthat unless they were to be redeemed he must charge a fee of twenty-fivecents for showing the goods. To all of this Mr. Burrows listenedpatiently and then showing his shield said meaningly:

  "Now, friend Isaac, you get those rings out, and it will be better foryou. The Chief has had an eye on
this little shop of yours for sometime."

  "So help me Moses!" said the man, "he can keep both eyes on if helikes."

  But his demeanor changed, and with considerable alacrity he brought outthe rings. There were three, just as Randal had described to Mr. Barnes,including the one with the initial "Q" set in diamonds.

  "Who left these with you?" asked Mr. Burrows.

  "The name is on the ticket," answered the pawnbroker.

  "You are inaccurate, my friend. A name is on the ticket, yes, but notthe name. Now tell me the truth."

  "It's all straight. I ain't hiding anything. Morgan brought the thingshere."

  "Morgan, eh? You are sure his name is Morgan? Quite sure?"

  "Why, that's the name I know him by. Sometimes he goes by the name ofMorton, I've heard. But with me it's always been Morgan, Jerry Morgan,just as it reads on the ticket."

  "Oh, then you know this man Morgan?"

  "No; only that he borrows money on security once in a while."

  "Well, now, if his name is Morgan, did you think this ring with a 'Q' onit was his? Does 'Q' stand for Morgan?"

  "That's none of my affair. Heavens, I can't ask everybody where they getthings. They'd be insulted."

  "Insulted! That's a good one. Well, when I get my hands on this chaphe'll be badly insulted, for I'll ask him a lot of questions. Now,Isaac, let me tell you what this 'Q' stands for. It stands for Quadrant,and that's the name of the man found in the river lately, and thesethree rings came off his fingers. After death, Isaac; after death! Whatdo you think of that?"

  "You don't say! I'm astonished!"

  "Are you, now? Never thought your friend Morgan or Morton, who works outby the day, and brought valuable diamonds to pawn, would do such athing, did you? Thought he bought these things out of his wages, eh?"

  "I never knew he wasn't honest, so help me Moses! or I wouldn't have hada thing to do with him."

  "Perhaps not. You're too honest yourself to take 'swag' from a 'crook,'even though you loan about one quarter of the value."

  "I gave him all he asked for. He promised to take them out again."

  "Well, he won't, Isaac. I'll take them out myself."

  "You don't mean you're going to keep the rings? Where do I come in?"

  "You're lucky you don't come into jail."

  "May I ask this man a few questions, Burrows?" said Mr. Barnes.

  "As many as you like, and see that you answer straight, Isaac. Don'tforget what I hinted about the Chief having an eye on you."

  "Why, of course, I'll answer anything."

  "You say you have known this man Morgan for some time?" asked Mr.Barnes. "Can you give me an idea of how he looks?"

  "Why, I ain't much on descriptions. Morgan is a short fellow, ratherstocky, and he's got dark hair and a mustache that looks like apaintbrush."

  Mr. Barnes recalled the description which the butler had given of theman who had remained at the house when the others went away, and thistallied very well with it. As Berial had declared that it was Morgan whohad been left at the house, and as this description did not fit Randalat all, he being above medium height, with a beardless face which madehim seem younger than he probably was, it began to look as though insome way Mr. Burrows had made a mistake, and that Randal was notcriminally implicated, though perhaps he had stolen the pawn-tickets,and subsequently destroyed them when he found that a policeinvestigation was inevitable.

  There was no object in further questioning the pawnbroker, who pleadedthat as the owners of the property were rich, and as he had "honestly"made the loan, they might be persuaded to return to him the amount ofhis advance, adding that he would willingly throw off his "interest."

  Leaving the place, and walking together across town, Mr. Barnes said toMr. Burrows:

  "Tom, I am afraid you are on a wrong scent. That man Randal stole thosepawn-tickets. He did not himself pawn the rings."

  "Maybe," said the younger man, only half convinced. "But you mark myword. Randal is in this. Don't believe all that 'fence' says. He may bein with Randal. I fancy that Randal pawned the things, but made the Jewput Morgan's name on them. Now that we ask him questions, he declaresthat Morgan brought them to him, either to protect Randal, or mostlikely to protect himself. Since there is a real Morgan, and he knew theman, he had no right to write his name on those tickets for thingsbrought to him by some one else."

  "But why are you so sure that Morgan is innocent? How do you know thathe was the one that went off with old Berial when they left the house?"

  "Simply because the other man, Randal, took the wagon back to thestables."

  "Are you certain of that?"

  "Absolutely. I have been to the stables, and they all tell the samestory. Randal took the wagon out, harnessing the horse himself, as heoften did. And Randal brought it back again, after six o'clock; of thatthey are certain, because the place is merely a livery for expresswagons, trucks, and the like. The regular stable-boys go off between sixand seven, and there is no one in charge at night except the watchman.The drivers usually take care of their own horses. Now the watchman wasalready there when Randal came in with the wagon, and two of thestable-boys also saw him."

  "Now, Tom, you said that in your belief there was another man in thiscase,--one who really was the principal. Have you any suspicion as tothat man's identity?"

  "Here's my idea," said Mr. Burrows. "This fellow Randal was sounded bythe man who finally engaged him for the job, and, proving to be theright sort, was engaged. He was to take the body out of the coffin andcarry it away. The man who hired Randal must have been one of thebrothers."

  "Why?"

  "It must have been, else the opportunity could not have been made, for,mark me, it was made. See! The widow was taken to the room to see thecorpse, and then it was arranged that the coffin should be closed andnot opened again before the funeral. That was to make all sure. Thencame the closing of the coffin and the departure of two of theundertakers. The third, Randal, remained behind, and while the familylingered at dinner the job was done. The body was carried out to thewagon and driven off. Now we come to the question, which of the brothersdid this?"

  "Which have you decided upon?"

  "Why, the object of this devilish act was to please the widow bypreventing this cremation to which she objected. The man who concoctedthat scheme thought that when the body should be found it would then beburied, which would gratify the widow. Now why did he wish to gratifyher? Because he's in love with her. She's not old, you know, and she'sstill pretty."

  "Then you think that Mark Quadrant concocted this scheme?"

  "No! I think that Amos Quadrant is our man."

  It seemed destined that Mr. Burrows should surprise Mr. Barnes. If theolder detective was astonished when he had heard Burrows suggest thatRandal had been the accomplice in this affair, he was more astounded nowto hear him accuse the elder brother of being the principal. For, hadnot Mark Quadrant told him that it was Amos who had insisted upon thecremation? And that Amos, being the elder, had assumed the control ofthe funeral?

  "Burrows," said Mr. Barnes, "I hope that you are not merely followingyour impulsive imagination?"

  Mr. Burrows colored as he replied with some heat:

  "You need not forever twit me with my stupidity in my first case. Ofcourse I may be mistaken, but I am doing routine work on this affair. Ihave not any real proof yet to support my theories. If I had I shouldmake an arrest. But I have evidence enough to make it my duty to goahead on definite lines. When the mystery clears a little, I may seethings differently."

  "I should like to know why you think that Amos is in love with hissister-in-law."

  "Perhaps it would be safer to claim that he was once in love with her.The past is a certainty, the present mere conjecture. I got the tip froma slip of the tongue made by Dr. Mortimer, and I have corroborated thefacts since. I was speaking with Dr. Mortimer of the possibility ofthere being any ill-feeling between the members of this family, when hesaid: 'I believe there was some hard feel
ing between the deceased andhis brother Amos arising from jealousy.' When he had let the word'jealousy' pass his lips, he closed up like a clam, and when I pressedhim, tried to pass it off by saying that Amos was jealous of hisbrother's business and social successes. But that did not go down withme, so I have had some guarded inquiries made, with the result that itis certain that Amos loved this woman before she accepted Rufus."

  "What if I tell you that I have heard that the younger brother, Mark, isin love with the widow, and that it was he who opposed cremation, whileit was Amos who insisted upon carrying out the wishes of his brother?"

  "What should I say to that? Well, I should say that you probably gotthat yarn from Randal, and that he had been 'stuffing you,' as thevernacular has it, hoping you'll excuse the vulgar expression."

  It nettled Mr. Barnes to have his younger _confrere_ guess so accuratelythe source of his information, and to hear him discredit it sosatirically. He recognized, however, that upon the evidence offered Mr.Burrows had not yet made out his case, and that therefore the mysterywas yet far from solved.

  "Look here, Burrows," said Mr. Barnes. "Take an older man's advice.Don't go too fast in this case. Before you come to any conclusion, findthis man Jerry Morgan."

  "Why, there won't be any trouble about that."

  "Oh, then you know where he is?"

  "Why, he is still with Berial. At least he was up to last night."

  "Ah, now we come to it!" Mr. Barnes was gratified to find that Burrowshad not kept full control of his case. "Last night was many hours ago.Morgan threw up his job this morning, and left."

  "The devil you say!"

  "Oh, yes," said Mr. Barnes, determined now to make Mr. Burrows a littleuncomfortable. "I have no doubt he intends to skip out, but, of course,he cannot get away. You have him shadowed?"

  "Why, no, I have not," said Mr. Burrows, dejectedly. "You see, I did notconnect him in my mind with----"

  "Perhaps he is not connected with the case in your mind, Burrows, but heis connected with it in fact. He is unquestionably the key to thesituation at present. With him in our hands we could decide whether itwas he or Randal who pawned those rings. Without him we can provenothing. In short, until you get at him the case is at a standstill."

  "You are right, Mr. Barnes," said Mr. Burrows, manfully admitting hiserror. "I have been an ass. I was so sure about Randal that I did notuse proper precautions, and Morgan has slipped through my fingers. ButI'll find his trail, and I'll track him. I'll follow him to the oppositeocean if necessary, but I'll bring him back."

  "That is the right spirit, Tom. Find him and bring him back if you can.If you cannot, then get the truth out of him. Let me say one thing more.For the present at least, work upon the supposition that it was he whopawned those rings. In that case he has at least two hundred dollars fortravelling expenses."

  "You are right. I'll begin at once without losing another minute."

  "Where will you start?"

  "I'll start where he started--at his own house. He's left there by now,of course, but I'll have a look at the place and talk a bit with theneighbors. When you hear from me again, I'll have Morgan."

  VIII

  Mr. Barnes returned to his home that night feeling well satisfied withhis day's work. With little real knowledge he had started out in themorning, and within ten hours he had dipped deeply into the heart of themystery. Yet he felt somewhat like a man who has succeeded in workinghis way into the thickest part of a forest, with no certainty as towhere he might emerge again, or how. Moreover, though he had seeminglyaccomplished so much during the first day, he seemed destined to makelittle headway for many days thereafter. On the second day of hisinvestigation he ascertained one fact which was more misleading thanhelpful. It will be recalled that Mark Quadrant had told him that hisbrother had a scar on the sole of his foot made by cutting himselfwhilst in swimming. Mr. Barnes went to the Morgue early, and examinedboth feet most carefully. There was no such scar, nor was it possiblethat there ever could have been. The feet were absolutely unmarred.Could it be possible that, in spite of the apparently convincing proofthat this body had been correctly identified, nevertheless a mistake hadbeen made?

  This question puzzled the detective mightily, and he longed impatientlyfor an opportunity to talk with one of the family, especially with theelder brother, Amos. Delay, however, seemed unavoidable. The policeauthorities, having finally accepted the identification, delivered thebody to the Quadrants, and a second funeral occurred. Thus two more dayselapsed before Mr. Barnes felt at liberty to intrude, especially as itwas not known that he had been regularly retained by Mrs. Quadrant.

  Meanwhile nothing was heard from Burrows, who had left the city, and, asa further annoyance, Mr. Barnes was unable to catch Mr. Mitchel at homethough he called three times. Failing to meet that gentleman, andchafing at his enforced inactivity, the detective finally concluded tovisit the cemetery in the hope of learning what had occurred when Mr.Mitchel had inspected the ashes. Again, however, was he doomed todisappointment. His request to be allowed to examine the contents of theurn was refused, strict orders to that effect having been imposed by theChief of the regular detective force.

  "You see," explained the superintendent, "we could not even let you lookinto the urn upon the order of one of the family, because they haveclaimed the body at the Morgue, and so they have no claim on theseashes. If a body was burned that day, then there is a body yet to beaccounted for, and the authorities must guard the ashes as their onlychance to make out a case. Of course they can't identify ashes, but theexpert chemists claim they can tell whether a human body or only anempty coffin was put into the furnace."

  "And are the experts making such an analysis?" asked Mr. Barnes.

  "Yes. The Chief himself came here with two of them, the day beforeyesterday. They emptied out the ashes onto a clean marble slab, andlooked all through the pile. Then they put some in two bottles, andsealed the bottles, and then put the balance back in the urn and sealedthat also. So, you see, there isn't any way for me to let you look intothat urn."

  "No, of course not," admitted the detective, reluctantly. "Tell me, wasany one else present at this examination besides the Chief and the twoexperts?"

  "Yes. A gentleman they called Mitchel, I believe."

  Mr. Barnes had expected this answer, yet it irritated him to hear it.Mr. Mitchel had information which the detective would have given much toshare.

  During the succeeding days he made numerous ineffectual efforts to havean interview with Amos Quadrant, but repeatedly was told that he was"Not at home." Mrs. Quadrant, too, had left town for a rest at one oftheir suburban homes, and Mark Quadrant had gone with her. The cityhouse, with its closed shutters, seemed as silent as the grave, and thesecret of what had occurred within those walls seemed almost hopelesslyburied.

  "What a pity," thought the detective, "that walls do not have tongues aswell as ears."

  A week later Mr. Barnes was more fortunate. He called at the Quadrantmansion, expecting to once more hear the servant say coldly, "Not athome," in answer to his inquiry for Mr. Quadrant, when, to his surpriseand pleasure, Mr. Quadrant himself stepped out of the house as heapproached it. The detective went up to him boldly, and said:

  "Mr. Quadrant, I must have a few words with you."

  "Must?" said Mr. Quadrant with an angry inflection. "I think not. Moveout of my way, and let me pass."

  "Not until you have given me an interview," said Mr. Barnes firmly,without moving.

  "You are impertinent, sir. If you interfere with me further, I will haveyou arrested," said Mr. Quadrant, now thoroughly aroused.

  "If you call a policeman," said Mr. Barnes, calmly, "I will have youarrested."

  "And upon what charge, pray?" said Mr. Quadrant, contemptuously.

  "I will accuse you of instigating the removal of your brother's bodyfrom the coffin."

  "You are mad."

  "There are others who hold this view, so it would be wise for you
tomove carefully in this matter."

  "Would you object to telling me what others share your extraordinaryopinion?"

  "I did not say that it is my opinion. More than that, I will say that itis not my opinion, not at present at all events. But it is the viewwhich is receiving close attention at police headquarters."

  "Are you one of the detectives?"

  "I am a detective, but not connected with the city force."

  "Then by what right do you intrude yourself into this affair?"

  Mr. Barnes knew that he must play his best card now, to gain his pointwith this man. He watched him closely as he answered:

  "I am employed by Mrs. Quadrant."

  There was an unmistakable start. Amos Quadrant was much disturbed tohear that his sister-in-law had hired a detective, and curiously enoughhe made no effort to hide his feelings. With some show of emotion hesaid in a low voice:

  "In that case, perhaps, we should better have a talk together. Come in."

  With these words he led the way into the house, and invited thedetective into the same room wherein he had talked with Mark Quadrant.When they had found seats, Mr. Quadrant opened the conversationimmediately.

  "What is your name?" he asked.

  "John Barnes," was the reply.

  "Barnes? I have heard of you. Well, Mr. Barnes, let me be very frankwith you. Above all things it has been my wish that this supposedmystery should not be cleared up. To me it is a matter of no consequencewho did this thing, or why it was done. Indeed, what suspicions havecrossed my mind make me the more anxious not to know the truth. Feelingthus, I should have done all in my power to hinder the work of theregular police. When you tell me that my sister-in-law has engaged yourservices, you take me so by surprise that I am compelled to think a bitin order to determine what course to pursue. You can readily understandthat my position is a delicate and embarrassing one."

  "I understand that thoroughly, and you have my sympathy, Mr. Quadrant."

  "You may mean that well, but I do not thank you," said Mr. Quadrant,coldly. "I want no man's sympathy. This is purely an impersonalinterview, and I prefer to have that distinctly prominent in our mindsthroughout this conversation. Let there be no misunderstanding and nofalse pretenses. You are a detective bent upon discovering the author ofcertain singular occurrences. I am a man upon whom suspicion hasalighted; and, moreover, guilty or innocent, I desire to prevent youfrom accomplishing your purpose. I do not wish the truth to be known. Dowe understand one another?"

  "Perfectly," said Mr. Barnes, astonished by the man's manner andadmiring his perfect self-control and his bold conduct.

  "Then we may proceed," said Mr. Quadrant. "Do you wish to ask mequestions, or will you reply to one or two from me?"

  "I will answer yours first, if you will reply to mine afterwards."

  "I make no bargains. I will answer, but I do not promise to tell youanything unless it pleases me to do so. You have the same privilege.First, then, tell me how it happened that Mrs. Quadrant engaged you inthis case."

  "I called here, attracted merely by the extraordinary features of thiscase, and Mrs. Quadrant granted me a short interview, at the end ofwhich she offered to place the matter in my hands as herrepresentative."

  "Ah! Then she did not of her own thought send for you?"

  "No."

  "You told me that the regular detectives are considering the theory thatI instigated this affair. As you used the word instigated, it shouldfollow that some other person, an accomplice, is suspected likewise. Isthat the idea?"

  "That is one theory."

  "And who, pray, is my alleged accomplice?"

  "That I cannot tell you without betraying confidence."

  "Very good. Next you declared that you yourself do not share this view.Will you tell me on what grounds you exculpate me?"

  "With pleasure. The assumed reason for this act of removing your brotherfrom his coffin was to prevent the cremation. Now it was yourself whowished to have the body incinerated."

  "You are mistaken. I did not wish it. On the contrary, I most earnestlywished that there should be no cremation. You see I incriminate myself."

  He smiled painfully, and a dejected expression crossed his face. For aninstant he looked like a man long tired of carrying some burden, thenquickly he recovered his composure.

  "You astonish me," said Mr. Barnes. "I was told by Mr. Mark that youinsisted upon carrying out your brother's wish in this matter ofdisposing of his body."

  "My brother told you that? Well, it is true. He and I quarrelled aboutit. He wished to have a regular burial, contrary to our brother'soft-repeated injunction. I opposed him, and, being the elder, I assumedthe responsibility, and gave the orders."

  "But you have admitted that you did not wish this?"

  "Do we always have our wishes gratified in this world?"

  The detective, watching the man's face closely, again noted thatexpression of weariness cross his features, and an instinctive feelingof pity was aroused. Once more the skein became more entangled. His ownsuspicion against Mark Quadrant rested upon the supposition that the actwas committed with the intent of making capital out of it with thewidow, and was based upon the theory that Amos wished to have hisbrother incinerated. If now it should transpire that after all it wasAmos who managed the affair, his motive was a higher one, for, whileappearing to carry out the wishes of his deceased brother, he must haveaimed to gratify the widow, without admitting her to the knowledge thathis hand had gained her purpose. This was a higher, nobler love. WasAmos Quadrant of this noble mould? The question crossing the detective'smind met a startling answer which prompted Mr. Barnes to ask suddenly:

  "Is it true that, speaking of this cremation, you said: 'Let him burn;he'll burn in hell anyway'?"

  Amos Quadrant flushed deeply, and his face grew stern as he answered:

  "I presume you have witnesses who heard the words, therefore it would befutile to deny it. It was a brutal remark, but I made it. I wasexasperated by something which Mark had said, and replied in anger."

  "It is a sound doctrine, Mr. Quadrant," said the detective, "that wordsspoken in anger often more truly represent the speaker's feelings thanwhat he says when his tongue is bridled."

  "Well?"

  "If we take this view, then it is apparent that you did not hold a veryhigh regard for your brother."

  "That is quite true. Why should I?"

  "He was your brother."

  "And because of the accident of birth, I was bound to love him? Apopular fallacy, Mr. Barnes. He was equally bound, then, to love me, buthe did not. Indeed he wronged me most grievously."

  "By marrying the woman you loved?"

  Mr. Barnes felt ashamed of his question, as a surgeon often must besorry to insert the scalpel. To his surprise it elicited no retort. Mr.Quadrant's reply was calmly spoken. All he said was:

  "Yes, he did that."

  "Did she know?" ventured the detective hesitatingly.

  "No, I think not--I hope not."

  There was a painful pause. Mr. Quadrant looked down at the floor, whileMr. Barnes watched him, trying to decide whether the man were acting apart with intent to deceive, as he had announced that he would nothesitate to do; or whether he were telling the truth, in which case thenobility of his character was brought more into perspective.

  "Are you sure," said Mr. Barnes after a pause, "that the body taken fromthe river was that of your brother Rufus?"

  "Why do you ask that?" said Mr. Quadrant, on the defensive at once. "Canthere be any doubt?"

  "Before I reply, let me ask you another question. Did your brother Rufushave a scar on the sole of his foot?"

  The other man started perceptibly, and paused some time beforeanswering. Then he asked:

  "What makes you think so?"

  "Mr. Mark Quadrant told me that his brother had such a scar, caused bygashing his foot while in swimming."

  "Ah, that is your source of information. Well, when Mark told you thathis brother had met with such an
accident, he told you the truth."

  "But did the accident leave a scar?" Mr. Barnes thought he detected acarefully worded evasive answer.

  "Yes, the cut left a bad scar; one easily noticed."

  "In that case I can reply to your question. If, as you both say, yourbrother had a scar on the sole of his foot, then there existsconsiderable doubt as to the identification of the body which was at theMorgue, the body which you have both accepted and buried as being thatof your relative. Mr. Quadrant, there was no scar on that body."

  "Odd, isn't it?" said Mr. Quadrant, without any sign of surprise.

  "I should say it is very odd. How do you suppose it can be explained?"

  "I do not know, and, as I have told you before, I do not care. Quite thereverse; the less you comprehend this case the better pleased I shallbe."

  "Mr. Quadrant," said Mr. Barnes, a little nettled, "since you so franklyadmit that you wish me to fail, why should I not believe that you aretelling me a falsehood when you state that your brother told me thetruth?"

  "There is no reason that I care to advance," said Mr. Quadrant, "why youshould believe me, but if you do not, you will go astray. I repeat, whatmy brother told you is true."

  It seemed to the detective that in all his varied experience he hadnever met with circumstances so exasperatingly intricate. Here was anidentification for many reasons the most reliable that he had known, andnow there appeared to be a flaw of such a nature that it could not beset aside. If the body was that of Mr. Quadrant, then both these menhad lied. If they told the truth, then, in spite of science, thedoctors, and the family, the identification had been false. In that caseRufus Quadrant had been cremated after all, and this would account forthe statement in Mr. Mitchel's note that a human body had beenincinerated. Could it be that these two brothers were jointly implicatedin a murder, and had pretended to recognize the body at the Morgue inorder to have it buried and to cover up their crime? It seemedincredible. Besides, the coincidence of the external and internaldiseases was too great.

  "I would like to ask you a few questions in relation to the occurrenceson the day and evening preceding the funeral," said Mr. Barnes, pursuingthe conversation, hoping to catch from the answers some clue that mightaid him.

  "Which funeral?" said Mr. Quadrant.

  "The first. I have been told that you and your brother were present whenthe widow last viewed the face of her husband, and that at that time,about five o'clock, you jointly agreed that the coffin should not beopened again. Is this true?"

  "Accurate in every detail."

  "Was the coffin closed at once? That is, before you left the room?"

  "The lower part of the coffin-top was, of course, in place and screwedfast when we entered the room. The upper part, exposing the face, wasopen. It was this that was closed in my presence."

  "I would like to get the facts here very accurately, if you are willing.You say, closed in your presence. Do you mean merely covered, or was thetop screwed fast before you went out of the room, and, if so, by whom?"

  "Mark took our sister away, but Dr. Mortimer and myself remained untilthe screws were put in. Mr. Berial himself did that."

  "Did you observe that the screws were odd? Different from commonscrews?"

  Mr. Barnes hoped that the other man would betray something at thispoint, but he answered quite composedly:

  "I think I did at the time, but I could not describe them to you now. Ihalf remember that Mr. Berial made some such comment as 'No one can getthese out again without my permission.'"

  "Ah! He said that, did he? Yet some one must have gotten those screwsout, for, if your identification was correct, your brother's body wastaken out of that casket after the undertaker had put in those screws,which he said could not be removed without his permission. How do yousuppose that was accomplished?"

  "How should I know, Mr. Barnes, unless, indeed, I did it myself, orinstigated or connived at the doing? In either case, do you suppose Iwould give you any information on such a point?"

  "Did your brother Rufus have any rings on his fingers when placed in thecoffin?" asked Mr. Barnes, swiftly changing the subject.

  "Yes--three: a diamond, a ruby, and a ring bearing his initial set indiamonds."

  "These rings were not on the body at the Morgue."

  "Neither was that scar," said Mr. Quadrant, with a suppressed laugh.

  "But this is different," said Mr. Barnes. "I did not find the scar, butI have found the rings."

  "Very clever of you, I am sure. But what does that prove?"

  "It proves that your brother's body was taken from the coffin before thecoffin was placed in the crematory furnace."

  "Illogical and inaccurate," said Mr. Quadrant. "You prove by therecovery of the rings, merely that the rings were taken from thecoffin."

  "Or, from the body after it was taken out," interjected Mr. Barnes.

  "In either case it is of no consequence. You have rooted up a theft,that is all. Catch the thief and jail him, if you like. I care nothingabout that. It is the affair of my brother's death and burial that Iwish to see dropped by the inquisitive public."

  "Yes, but suppose I tell you that the theory is that the man who stolethe rings was your accomplice in the main matter? Don't you see thatwhen we catch him, he is apt to tell all that he knows?"

  "When you catch him? Then you have not caught him yet. For so much I amgrateful." He did not seem to care how incriminating his words mightsound.

  "One thing more, Mr. Quadrant. I understand that you retired at aboutten o'clock on that night--the night prior to the first funeral, I mean.You left your brother Mark down here?"

  "Yes."

  "Later you came downstairs again."

  "You seem to be well posted as to my movements."

  "Not so well as I wish to be. Will you tell me why you came down?"

  "I have not admitted that I came downstairs."

  "You were seen in the hall very late at night, or early in the morning.You took the lamp out of the room where the casket was, and came in hereand looked at your brother, who was asleep. Then you returned the lampand went upstairs. Do you admit now that you had just come downstairs?"

  "I admit nothing. But to show you how little you can prove, suppose Iask you how you know that I had just come downstairs? Why may it not bethat I had been out of the house, and had just come in again when yourinformant saw me?"

  "Quite true. You might have left the house. Perhaps it was then that thebody was taken away?"

  "If it was taken away, that was certainly as good a time as any."

  "What time?"

  "Oh, let us say between twelve and two. Very few people would be aboutthe street at that hour, and a wagon stopping before a door wouldattract very little attention. Especially if it were an undertaker'swagon."

  "An undertaker's wagon?" exclaimed Mr. Barnes, as this suggested a newpossibility.

  "Why, yes. If, as you say, there was an accomplice in this case, thefellow who stole the rings, you know, he must have been one of theundertaker's men. If so, he would use their wagon, would he not?"

  "I think he would," said Mr. Barnes sharply. "I thank you for the point.And now I will leave you."

  IX

  Mr. Barnes walked rapidly, revolving in his mind the new ideas which hadentered it during the past few minutes. Before this morning he hadimagined that the body of Rufus Quadrant had been taken away betweenfive and six o'clock, in the undertaker's wagon. But it had neveroccurred to him that this same wagon could have been driven back to thehouse at any hour of the day or night, without causing the policeman onthat beat to suspect any wrong. Thus, suddenly, an entirely new phasehad been placed upon the situation. Before, he had been interested inknowing which man had been left behind; whether it had been Morgan orRandal. Now he was more anxious to know whether the wagon had been takenagain from the stable on that night, and, if so, by whom. Consequentlyhe went first to the undertaker's shop, intending to interview Mr.Berial, but that g
entleman was out. Therefore he spoke again withRandal, who recognized him at once and greeted him cordially.

  "Why, how do you do," said he. "Glad you're round again. Anything turnedup in the Quadrant case?"

  "We are getting at the truth slowly," said the detective, watching hisman closely. "I would like to ask you to explain one or two things to meif you can."

  "Maybe I will, and maybe not. It wouldn't do to promise to answerquestions before I hear what they are. I ain't exactly what you wouldcall a fool."

  "Did you not tell me that it was Morgan who was left at the house afterthe coffin was closed, and that you came away with Mr. Berial?"

  "Don't remember whether I told you or not. But you've got it straight."

  "But they say at the stables that it was you who drove the wagon backthere?"

  "That's right, too. What of it?"

  "But I understood that Morgan brought the wagon back?"

  "So he did; back here to the shop. He had to leave all our tools andthings here, you see. Then he went off to his dinner, and I took thehorse and wagon round to the stables."

  "Where do you stable?"

  "Harrison's, Twenty-fourth Street, near Lex."

  "Now, another matter. You told me about the loss of those rings?"

  "Yes, and I gave you the tip where you might find them again. Did you gothere?"

  "Yes; you were right. The rings were pawned exactly where you sent me."

  "Oh, I don't know," said the fellow, airishly. "I ought to be on thepolice force, I guess. I can find out a few things, I think."

  "It isn't hard to guess what you know," said the detective, sharply.

  "What do you mean?" Randal was on the defensive at once.

  "I mean," said Mr. Barnes, "that it was you who pawned those rings."

  "That's a lie, and you can't prove it."

  "Don't be too sure of that. We have the pawn tickets."

  This shot went home. Randal looked frightened, and was evidentlyconfused.

  "That's another lie," said he, less vigorously. "You can't scare me. Ifyou have got them, which you haven't, you won't find my name on them."

  "No; you used your friend Morgan's name, which was a pretty low trick."

  "Look here, you detective," said Randal blusteringly, "I don't allow noman to abuse me. You can't talk that way to me. All this talk of yoursis rot. That's what it is, rot!"

  "Look here, Randal. Try to be sensible if you can. I have not yet madeup my mind whether you are a scoundrel or a fool. Suppose you tell methe truth about those tickets. It will be safest, I assure you."

  Randal looked at the detective and hesitated. Mr. Barnes continued:

  "There is no use to lie any longer. You were shadowed, and you were seenwhen you tore up the tickets. The pieces were picked up and puttogether, and they call for those rings. Don't you see we have you fastunless you can explain how you got the tickets?"

  "I guess you're givin' it to me straight," said Randal after a longpause. "I guess I better take your advice and let you have it right. Oneafternoon I saw Morgan hide something in one of the coffins in the shop.He tucked it away under the satin linin'. I was curious, and I lookedinto it after he'd gone that night. I found the pawn tickets. Of courseI didn't know what they were for except that it was rings. But I guessedit was for some stuff he'd stolen from the corpse of somebody. For itwas him took the other jewels I told you about, and I seen him with ascrew-driver the match to the boss's. So I just slipped the tickets inmy pocket thinkin' I'd have a hold on him. Next day I read about thisman bein' found in the river, and I stopped to the Morgue, and, just asI thought, his rings was gone. I worried over that for an hour or two,and then I thought I better not keep the tickets, so I tore them up andthrew them away."

  "That, you say, was the night after this affair was published in thepapers?"

  "No; it was the same night."

  "That is to say, the night of that day on which I came here and had atalk with you?"

  "No, it was the night before. You're thinkin' about the mornin' papers,but I seen it first in the afternoon papers."

  This statement dispelled a doubt which had entered the mind of thedetective, who remembered that Mr. Burrows had told him that thepawn-ticket incident had occurred on the evening previous to theirmeeting. This explanation, however, tallied with that, and Mr. Barneswas now inclined to credit the man's story.

  "Very good," said he. "You may be telling the truth. If you have nothingto do with this case, you ought to be willing to give me someassistance. Will you?"

  Randal had been so thoroughly frightened that he now seemed only tooglad of the chance to win favor in the eyes of Mr. Barnes.

  "Just you tell me what you want, and I'm your man," said he.

  "I want to find out something at the stable, and I think you can get theinformation for me better than I can myself."

  "I'll go with you right away. The boy can mind the shop while we'regone. Charlie, you just keep an eye on things till I get back, willyou? I won't be out more'n ten minutes. Come on, Mr. Barnes, I'm withyou."

  On the way to the stable Mr. Barnes directed Randal as to what he wishedto learn, and then at his suggestion waited for him in a liquor saloonnear by, while he went alone to the stable. In less than ten minutesRandal hurried into the place, flushed with excitement and evidentlybubbling over with importance. He drew the detective to one side andspoke in whispers.

  "Say," said he, "you're on the right tack. The wagon was out again thatnight, and not on any proper errand, neither."

  "Tell me what you have learned," said Mr. Barnes.

  "Of course the night watchman ain't there now, but Jimmy, the daysuperintendent, is there, and I talked with him. He says there was somefunny business that night. First I asked him about the wagon bein' outor not, and he slaps his hand on his leg, and he says: 'By George!' sayshe, 'that's the caper. Didn't you put that wagon in its right place whenyou brung it in that afternoon?' he says to me. 'Of course,' says I;'where do you think I'd put it?' 'Well,' says he, 'next mornin' it wasout in the middle of the floor, right in the way of everything. The boyswas cussin' you for your carelessness. I wasn't sure in my own mind or Iwould have spoke; but I thought I seen you shove that wagon in its rightplace.' 'So I did,' says I, 'and if it was in the middle of the stable,you can bet it was moved after I left. Now who moved it?' 'I don'tknow,' says he, 'but I'll tell you another thing what struck me as odd.I didn't have nothin' particular to do that night, and I dropped in foran hour or so to be sociable like with Jack'--that's the night watchman.'While I was there,' he goes on, 'while I was there, who should come inbut Jerry Morgan! He didn't stop long, but he took us over to the saloonand balled us off'--that means he treated to drinks. 'Next day I comeround about six o'clock as usual,' says Jimmy, goin' on, 'and there wasJack fast asleep. Now that's the fust time that man ever dropped offwhile on watch, and he's been here nigh on to five years. I shook himand tried every way to 'waken him, but it didn't seem to do no good.He'd kind of start up and look about dazed, and even talk a bit, but assoon as I'd let up, he'd drop off again. I was makin' me a cup ofcoffee, and, thinkin' it might rouse him, I made him drink some, and, doyou know, he was all right in a few minutes. At the time I didn't thinkmuch about it, but since then I have thought it over a good deal, and,do you know what I think now?' 'No,' says I; 'what do you think?' 'Ithink,' says he, 'I think that Jimmy was drugged, and if he was, JerryMorgan done the trick when he balled us off, and you can bet it was himtook that wagon out that night.' That's the story Jimmy tells, Mr.Barnes, and it's a corker, ain't it?"

  "It certainly is important," said Mr. Barnes.

  Once more he had food for thought. This narrative was indeed important;the drowsiness of the watchman and his recovery after drinking coffeesuggested morphine. The detective likewise recalled the story of thebutler who claimed that he had seen Mark Quadrant asleep while he wassupposed to be guarding the coffin. Then, too, there was the empty paperwhich had once held some powder, and which he had himself fo
und in theroom where Mark Quadrant had slept. Had he too been drugged? If so, thequestion arose, Did this man Morgan contrive to mix the morphine withsomething which he thought it probable that the one sitting up with thecorpse would drink, or had Amos given his brother the sleeping-potion?In one case it would follow that Morgan was the principal in thisaffair, while in the other he was merely an accomplice. If his handalone managed all, then it might be that he had a deeper and more potentmotive than the mere removal of the body to avoid cremation, the latterbeing a motive which the detective had throughout hesitated to adoptbecause it seemed so weak. If Morgan substituted another body for theone taken from the coffin, then the statement of Mr. Mitchel that a bodyhad been cremated was no longer a discrepancy. There was but oneslightly disturbing thought. All the theorizing in which he now indulgedwas based on the assumption that Randal was not deceiving. Yet how couldhe be sure of that? Tom Burrows would have said to him: "Mr. Barnes,that fellow is lying to you. His story may be true in all except that itwas himself and not Morgan who did these things." For while he hadthought it best to let Randal go alone to the stable to make inquiries,this had placed him in the position of receiving the tale atsecond-hand, so that Randal might have colored it to suit himself. Forthe present, he put aside these doubts and decided to pursue this clueuntil he proved it a true or false scent. He dismissed Randal with aninjunction to keep his tongue from wagging, and proceeded to the houseof the man Morgan, regretting now that he had not done so before.

  The tenement on Eleventh Avenue was one of those buildings occupyinghalf a block, having stores on the street, with narrow, dark, dismalhallways, the staircases at the farther end being invisible from thestreet door, even on the sunniest days, without a match. Overhead, eachhallway offered access to four flats, two front and two back, the doorsbeing side by side. These apartments each included two or three roomsand what by courtesy might be called a bathroom, though few indeed ofthe tenants utilized the latter for the purpose for which it had beenconstructed, preferring to occupy this extra space with such of theirimpedimenta as might not be in constant use.

  When one enters a place of this character asking questions, if headdresses any of the adults he is likely to receive scant information inreply. Either these people do not know even the names of theirnext-door neighbors, or else, knowing, they are unwilling to take thetrouble to impart the knowledge. The children, however, and they are asnumerous as grasshoppers in a hayfield, not only know everything, buttell what they know willingly. It is also a noteworthy fact that amidstsuch squalor and filth, with dirty face and bare legs, it is notuncommon to find a child, especially a girl, who will give answers, notonly with extreme show of genuine intelligence, but, as well, with adeferential though dignified courtesy which would grace thereception-rooms of upper Fifth Avenue.

  It was from such an urchin, a girl of about twelve, that Mr. Barneslearned that Jerry Morgan had lived on the fifth floor back.

  "But he's gone away, I guess," she added.

  "Why do you think so?" asked Mr. Barnes.

  "Oh, 'cause he ain't been in the saloon 'cross the way for 'bout a week,and he didn't never miss havin' his pint of beer every night 's long 'she 's been here."

  "Do you think I could get into his room?" asked Mr. Barnes.

  "I could get you our key, an' you could try," suggested the girl. "Ireckon one key will open any door in this house. It's cheaper to getlocks in a bunch that way, I guess, an' besides, poor folks don't getrobbed much anyhow, an' so they ain't got no 'casion to lock up everytime they go out. What little they've got don't tempt the robbers, Iguess. Maybe the 'punushment fits the crime' too quick."

  "'The punishment fits the crime,' you think," said Mr. Barnes with asmile. "Where did you get that from?"

  "Oh, I seen the Mikado oncet," said the girl rather proudly. "But Ididn't mean what you said; I said it fits 'too quick'; that's too snug,you know, though sometimes it's 'quick' too. You see, I guess they don'tget enough out of flats like these to pay for the risk."

  "You are quite a philosopher," said Mr. Barnes, approvingly. "Now runand get the key, and we will see whether it fits or not."

  She hurried upstairs, and was awaiting Mr. Barnes, with the key in herhand, when he reached the third landing. This she gave to him, and thenfollowed him up the remaining flights, where she pointed out the doorwhich led into Morgan's flat. The key was not needed, as the door wasnot locked, and the detective pushed it open and entered. The roomseemed bare enough, what little furniture there was being too evidentlythe product of a second-hand furniture store. There seemed little hopeof finding anything helpful to his investigation in this room, yet thedetective, with his usual thoroughness, examined every drawer, and everycorner or crevice in which anything might have been hidden, or have beenaccidentally dropped, and at last he did discover something which morethan repaid him.

  In the darkest corner of the dark closet, where perhaps it had droppedunperceived, he found an old vest, of no value in itself. But a searchof the pockets brought an exclamation of gratification to thedetective's lips, as from one of them he drew forth a folded paper stillcontaining a whitish powder. Mr. Barnes was certain that this powder wasmorphine, and at length he felt his feet on solid ground in trailing thecriminal. No longer need he doubt Randal. His story of the probabledrugging of the night watchman at the stable now became not onlycredible, but probable. Thinking that he might gain something by furtherquestioning the girl, Mr. Barnes said:

  "Why, here is some medicine! Perhaps he was sick and has gone away forhis health."

  With the keen intelligence of her class, the girl replied:

  "Some folks go away for their health without bein' sick."

  "How do you mean?"

  "When it gets so it ain't healthy for them to stay in town, you know."

  "You mean for fear of the police?"

  "Sure! What else?"

  "But do you think that this man Morgan would do anything that would makehim afraid of meeting a policeman?"

  "Oh, I don't know. But 'birds of a feather flock together,' you know.One of his pals was pinched, and he's workin' for the country now, onthe Island."

  "Who was that?" Mr. Barnes did not regret the time spent in talking withthis observing youngster.

  "I don't know his right name. They called him Billy the Red, over to thesaloon."

  Mr. Barnes started. This was a clue indeed. This was a well-knowncriminal whom she had named; one who had earned his sobriquet by killingtwo men in a barroom fight, when he had been one of the celebrated Whyogang. If Morgan consorted with such as he, there could be little doubtas to his social status.

  "You say Billy the Red was one of Morgan's pals. Did he have any othersthat you know of?" Mr. Barnes continued.

  "Well, he used to be with him most till he went up, but lately he's beentravellin' with Tommy White."

  "Where can I find him; do you know?"

  "Better look him up on the Island, too, I guess. He ain't been roundhere for quite some days."

  "Perhaps he does not come because Morgan is away?"

  "Oh, no, that can't be, 'cause he stopped showin' up before Morgan left.The neighbors was beginnin' to wonder and talk, just 'bout the timeMorgan skipped. You see, Tommy White he lived right next door, in thenext flat, him and Nellie."

  "Ah, he had a wife?"

  "I don't know about that. She was his girl anyway, though some thoughtMorgan was sweet on her too."

  Mr. Barnes thought the fog was lifting.

  "Where is this Nellie now?"

  "You can search me! She's gone too. The hull three has skipped out."

  "What, all three at the same time?"

  "No, that's the funny part of it. That's what makes folks talk. You see,we didn't see nothin' of Tommy White for two or three days, but Nellieshe was round all right. But when Morgan he cut it, Nellie she lit outtoo."

  "Let me get this right, my girl. And mind you make no mistake, for thisis important."

  "I ain't makin' no mistakes, mister
. I'm givin' it to you dead right,and that's more 'n you'd get out of anybody else in this castle. ButI've got my reasons, and," this she added with a sly wink, "you ain'tfooled me any, you know. You're a detective, that's what you are."

  "What makes you think so?"

  "Oh, there ain't much to guess. People dressed like you don't come to aplace like this and nose into another man's rooms just for amusement.Not much they don't. It's business with you."

  "Well, never mind that. Tell me, are you sure that White disappearedfirst, and that the girl was here afterwards, but that she has not beenseen since Morgan went away?"

  "That's right. You got it straight the first time. Now what do you makeof it? I know my own opinion."

  "Suppose you tell me your opinion first," said Mr. Barnes, anxious tohear her answer.

  "Well," said the girl, "it's very simple, what I think. I think Tommy'sbeen done for."

  "Done for?" Mr. Barnes comprehended her meaning but preferred to haveher speak more plainly.

  "Yes, done for, that's what I said. They've put him out of the way,those two. And if that's right, it's a shame, 'cause Tommy was a goodfellow. It was him took me to the theatre, that time when I seen theMikado."

  Evidently this one visit to a theatre had been an event in her wearylittle life, and the man who had given her that bit of pleasure and hadafforded her that one glimpse of what she would have described as the"dressed-up folks," had by that act endeared himself to her childishheart. If he had been injured, her little soul longed for vengeance, andshe was ready to be the instrument which might lead Justice to hervictim.

  Mr. Barnes began to believe that the solution of this mystery was nearat hand. He left the building, thanking the child for what she had toldhim, and promising to find out what had become of her friend TommyWhite. Crossing the street he entered the saloon where the girl had toldhim that Morgan had been in the habit of buying his daily pint of beer.By talking with the bartender he hoped to elicit further information.

  The gentlemanly dispenser of liquid refreshment, whose constant boastwas that he knew how to manufacture over three hundred different mixeddrinks without using any intoxicant, stood beside the mahogany counter,polishing up the glasses, which he piled in an imposing pyramid on theshelf at the back, where the display was made doubly attractive by theplate mirror behind. His hair was scrupulously brushed and his shortwhite coat was immaculately clean. Fortunately there was no one else inthe place, so that the detective was afforded a good opportunity forfree conversation. He asked for a Manhattan cocktail, and admired thedexterity with which the man prepared the drink. Raising it to his lipsand tasting it as a connoisseur might, Mr. Barnes said:

  "Could not be better at the Waldorf."

  "Oh, I don't know," said the fellow, deprecatingly, but pleased at theimplied compliment.

  "Your face is very familiar to me," said Mr. Barnes; "have you ever metme before?"

  "Never in my life," said the bartender, without the slightest change ofexpression.

  "That's odd," said Mr. Barnes, pursuing the point with a purpose; "I ampretty good at faces. I seldom forget one, and just as seldom make amistake. I would almost swear I have seen you before."

  "I was tending bar at the Astor House for two years. Perhaps you saw methere," suggested the man.

  "Ah, that is it," said Mr. Barnes, pretending to accept thisexplanation; "I often take my luncheon there. By the way, I suppose youare pretty well acquainted around the neighborhood?"

  "Oh, I know a few people," said the man, cautiously.

  "You know Tommy White, of course?"

  "Do I?"

  "Don't you?"

  "I might, without knowing his name. Our customers don't all leave theircards when they buy a drink. I don't know your name, for instance."

  "Yes, but I do not live in the neighborhood. White must come hereoften."

  "Well, he hasn't been in lately," said the bartender, and then stoppedshort as he noted the slip that he had made. The detective did notchoose to appear to notice it, but asked:

  "That is the point. Isn't it odd that he should have disappeared?"

  "Oh, I don't know. A man can go out of town if he wants to, I guess."

  "Do you know that White went out of town?"

  "No."

  "Have you seen Tommy White since Jerry Morgan skipped?"

  "See here! what the devil are you asking me all these questions for? Whoare you, anyway, and what are you after?"

  "I am Jack Barnes, detective, but I'm not after you, Joe Allen, aliasFred Martin, alias Jimmy Smith, alias Bowery Bill, alias the Plug."

  This sally left the man stolidly unmoved, but it affected his attitudetowards his questioner, nevertheless, as he sullenly answered:

  "There's nothing you can get against me, so I don't scare even if youknow me. If you don't want me, what do you want?"

  "Look here, Joe," said Mr. Barnes, in friendly, confidential tones, "abluff does not go with me, and you know it never did. Now why did younot acknowledge that you knew me when I first came in?"

  "What's the use of courtin' trouble? I wasn't sure you'd remember myface. It's quite a time since we met."

  "True. It is five years since that Bond Street affair, and you got threeyears for that, if I remember rightly."

  "Well, I served my time, didn't I? So that's ended, ain't it?"

  "Yes. But what about that little business of the postage-stamp robberyout in Trenton?"

  "Why, I didn't have no hand in that."

  "Well, two of your pals did, and when they were caught and sent up theywere square enough not to peach on you. The Mulberry Street crowd didnot know how thick you were with those boys, or you might have got intotrouble. But I knew, and you know that I knew."

  "Well, what if you did? I tell you I wasn't in that."

  "You would not like to be obliged to prove where you were that night,would you?"

  "Oh, I suppose it's always hard to prove I was one place, when fellowslike you go on the stand and swear I was somewhere else. So, as I saidbefore, what's the use of courtin' trouble?"

  "Now you are sensible, and as I said, I am not after you. All I want issome information. Give me another cocktail, and have one yourself."

  "Thanks, I will. Go ahead with your catechism; I'll answer so long asyou don't try to make me squeal on any of my friends. I'd go up beforeI'd do that. And you know that."

  "That's all right. I know you're square, and that is why I feel sure youwould not be mixed up in a murder."

  "Murder?"

  This time the fellow was frightened. How could he be sure that thisdetective was not trying to entrap him? How could he know positivelythat he had not been accused by some pal who wished to shiftresponsibility from himself to another? This is the Damocles sword thatever hangs over the head of the wrong-doer. His most chosen companionsmay either tell of what he has done, or accuse him of crime which he hasnot committed.

  "I am afraid so. But what are you worrying over? Did I not tell you thatyou are not in it? Listen to me, Joe. This Jerry Morgan has skipped outof town, and it looks as though he took Tommy White's girl Nellie withhim. Now, where is Tommy White?"

  "I don't know a thing. I swear I don't."

  "Yes, you do. You do not know what has become of him, but you knowsomething. Morgan isn't any pal of yours, is he?"

  "No."

  "Very well. Then why not tell me what you know? If he has done anythingto White, he ought not to go free, ought he? You do not stand in withmurder, do you?"

  "No, I don't. But how do I know there's been any murder?"

  "You don't know it, but since I suggested it to you, you think so. I seethat in your face. Now, what do you know?"

  "Well, I don't know much, but what I know I don't want used to makeanother fellow go to the chair."

  "That is no affair of yours. You are not responsible for what the lawdoes. Come, I have no more time to waste. Tell me what you know, or sayright out that you will not. Then I will know what to do."

 
; The implied threat decided the man, and without further attempt atevasion he said:

  "Well, I suppose there ain't any use my runnin' any risk for a manthat's nothin' to me. It's this way: Morgan's an old-time crook--Isuppose you know that?" Mr. Barnes nodded, although this was news tohim. Allen continued: "He's been at it since he was a kid. Was in thereformatory, and learned more there about crooked work in a year than hewould have picked up in ten outside. He's never done time, though, sincehe graduated from that institution. Learned enough, I guess, to keepout of sight of your crowd. Two years ago he moved into thisneighborhood and since then I've seen him in here a good deal. He tookup with Tommy White--a young fellow that would have lived straight onlyhe was in bad company, and was railroaded with a gang for a job hereally had no hand in. That settled him. When he came out of Sing Singhe wasn't likely to go for a straight job at a dollar a day, when hecould lay around idle and pick up a good thing every now and then thatwould keep him going. I guess he and Morgan done a good many jobstogether; anyway, they never was short of money. One thing was funnyabout those two--nobody ever seen them in the daytime. They used to saythey was 'workin',' but that didn't go with the crowd that hangs outhere. Neither Morgan nor White would work if they could help it. Theywas just like brothers, those two, till White took up with this girlNellie. I think Morgan was jealous of his luck from the first, 'causethe girl is a peach. One of your real blondes, without no bleachin'stuff. She's got a skin like velvet, and hands and feet like a lady.White soon found out that his pal was sweet on the girl, and many a timethey've rowed over her. Finally, about two weeks ago the two of them wasin here, and they was drinkin' pretty hard and just ready for a scrap,when the girl comes in. Morgan goes up to her and puts his arm round herand kisses her plump. White was mad in a minute, but he turned on herinstead of him and he says, says he: 'Nellie, I want you to hammer thatduffer over the head for doin' that,' and he picks up a beer glass andhands it to her. Nellie she takes the glass, and she says: 'I've heardof a kiss for a blow,' she says, 'but a blow for a kiss is a new one onme. It ain't that way in the Bible, Tommy, so I guess if you want anyhammerin' done, you'd better do it yourself. I'm thinkin' of joinin' theSalvation Army, you know.' This made Morgan and the crowd laugh, andWhite got fierce. He snatched the glass out of Nellie's hand and madefor Morgan. But Morgan he ducks and lets White go by him, and he picksup a beer glass too; then when White came for him again he landed aterrible blow with the glass right back of White's ear. Tommy went downin a heap and lay on the ground quiverin'. The whole thing happened soquick nobody could interfere. Morgan got sober in a second, I tell you,and he was scared. Everybody crowded round, and the girl she was awonder. You'd think bein' a woman she'd cry and make a fuss? Not a bitof it. She got some ice and put it on White's head, and threw water inhis face, and she puts her ear down to his heart, and then she looks upafter a bit, and she says, as cool as could be: 'Boys, he's onlystunned. He'll come round all right. Some of you help get him home, andI'll look after him. He'll sleep off his liquor and he won't know whathurt him when he wakes in the mornin'.' Well, Morgan and the others theydid what she said. They took White up and carted him over to his flat,and put him to bed. My! but he was limp, and his face was that blue it'sbeen before me ever since."

  "Did White get over that blow?"

  "That's the point. Nellie and Morgan said he did; that he was a bit sorenext day and had a headache. That was likely enough. But when you talkedabout murder a while ago, I admit I got scared, cause White's never beenseen since that night."

  "You are sure of that?"

  "Dead sure. Nellie said he was gone out of town, and the boys swallowedthe story. But when both Morgan and Nellie skipped it looked bad, andfolks began to talk. As for me, I've been nervous for days. Why, whenthat body was picked out of the river I just couldn't keep away from theMorgue. I just had to have a peep at it. I was sure it would be White,and that Morgan had pitched him over. My, but wasn't I glad to see itwas another man!"

  Assuring Allen that his story would not be used in any way that wouldbring him into conflict with the authorities, Mr. Barnes left the saloonand went to his office, feeling that at last this problem had beensolved. Evidently White had died of his wound, and when Morgan learnedthat the coffin of Mr. Quadrant was not to be opened before it wasconsigned to the crematory, he had conceived one of the most ingeniousschemes ever devised for disposing of a murdered body. By placing Whitein the coffin and allowing his body to be incinerated, all traces ofhis crime would seem to have been obliterated. To accomplish this it wasnecessary to have the use of the undertaker's wagon, and this he hadmanaged by drugging the watchman, as well as Mark Quadrant. The transfermade, he was still left with the other body, and his disposition of thatwas the most ingenious part of the plan. By throwing the corpse of RufusQuadrant into the water he apparently took little risk. It could not berecognized as White of course, and if correctly identified a mysterywould be created that ought to baffle the detectives, however cleverthey might be. Mr. Barnes felt that he had been fortunate, to learn somuch from such unpromising clues.

  At his office he found a telegram and a letter, both bearing on thecase. The telegram was from Mr. Burrows, and informed him that Morganhad been captured in Chicago, and would be in New York on the followingday. This was more than gratifying, and Mr. Barnes mentally praised theyoung detective. The letter was from Mr. Mitchel, and read:

  "FRIEND BARNES:

  "At last I have fathomed the Quadrant mystery. Will drop in on you about noon to-morrow and tell you how the affair was managed. You will be surprised, I am sure.

  "MITCHEL."

  "Will I?" said Mr. Barnes to himself.

  X

  Mr. Burrows arrived at the offices of Mr. Barnes about eleven o'clock onthe following morning, which much pleased the older detective, whowished to have his case complete before the arrival of Mr. Mitchel.

  "Well, Tom," said Mr. Barnes, cordially, "so you have caught your manand brought him back?"

  "Did I not promise you that I would?" replied Mr. Burrows.

  "Yes, but even a cleverer man than yourself cannot always hope to keepsuch a promise. Do you know that this fellow, Morgan, is a professionalcrook who has never been caught at his work before?"

  "So he has told me," said Mr. Burrows, modestly refraining from anyboastfulness.

  "He told you the truth in that instance, and I trust you have alsosucceeded in getting a confession from him as to his connection withthis Quadrant matter?"

  "He has pretended to make a clean breast of it, but of course we mustverify his story. One cannot place too much faith in the confessions ofa crook."

  "Does he admit that he took the rings?"

  "Yes, it seems you were right there."

  "Does he explain how and why he took the body from the coffin?"

  "On the contrary, he denies having done so."

  "Then he lies," said Mr. Barnes. "I have not been idle since you wentaway, but my tale will keep. Let me hear first what Morgan's allegedconfession amounts to."

  "He admits that he stole the rings. He has a duplicate of thatscrew-driver of which old Berial is so fond of bragging, and when he wasleft alone with the body, he opened the coffin and took the rings, and,in keeping with his limited standard of morals, he offers a ratheringenious excuse for his act."

  "I should like to hear a good excuse for robbing the dead."

  "That is his point exactly. He says that as the dead cannot ownproperty, the dead cannot be robbed. As the family had declared that thecoffin was not to be opened again, Morgan says he considered the ringsas practically consigned to the furnace, and then he asks, 'What was theuse of seeing stuff like that burned up, when it was good money to me?'It is a nice point, Mr. Barnes. If the owner elects to throw away ordestroy his property, can we blame a man for appropriating the same?"

  "We may not be able to blame him, but we certainly have the power t
opunish him. The law will not accept such sophistry as palliation forcrime. What else does the fellow admit?"

  "The rest of his tale is quite interesting, and I think would surpriseyou, unless, indeed, you have discovered the truth yourself."

  "I think I could make a shrewd guess," said Mr. Barnes.

  "Well, I wish you would tell me your story first. You see, after all, Iam the legally employed investigator of this matter, and I should liketo hear your story before telling mine, that I may be absolutely certainthat your results have been arrived at by a different line of work,though of course you understand that I do not for a moment imagine thatyou would intentionally color your story after hearing mine."

  "I understand you perfectly, Tom," said Mr. Barnes, kindly, "and I amnot at all offended. You are right to wish to have the two storiesindependently brought before your reasoning faculties. Morgan tells youthat he stole the rings in the afternoon. Perhaps he did, and perhaps hetook them later. It does not now seem to be material. The subsequentfacts, as I deduce them from the evidence, are as follows: Morgan had apal, who was sweet on a girl called Nellie. By the way, did you get anytrace of her?"

  "She was with Morgan when I found him and she has come back with us."

  "Good. Very good, It seems that Morgan also admired the girl, and thatfinally he and his pal had a saloon fight over her, during which Morganstruck the other man with a beer glass. This man fell to the floorunconscious, and was taken to his home in that condition. He has notbeen seen in the neighborhood since. Now we come to another series ofevents. Morgan admits taking the rings. Suppose we accept his story. Hethen left the house and drove the wagon back to the shop. Randal tookit from there to the stables, but later in the evening Morgan visitedthe stables and induced the night watchman to take a drink. That drinkwas drugged, and the drug was morphine. The watchman slept soundly, andthere is little doubt that while thus unconscious Morgan took theundertaker's wagon out of the stable on some errand. There is aninteresting series of links in this chain which convicts Morgan of usingmorphine to accomplish his purpose. First, it is nearly certain that thewatchman was drugged; second, a witness will testify that he found Mr.Mark Quadrant sound asleep, when he was supposed to be watching thecoffin; third, I have taken from the pocket of a vest found in Morgan'srooms a powder which a chemist declares is morphine. Is not that fairlygood evidence?"

  "It is good evidence, Mr. Barnes, but it does not prove that Morgan tookthat body from the coffin."

  "What, then, does it show?"

  "It makes him an accomplice at least. He undoubtedly drugged thewatchman and took the wagon out of the stables, but beyond that you canprove nothing. You have not offered any motive that would actuate him instealing the body."

  "The motive is quite sufficient, I assure you. His pal, whom he struckdown with the beer glass, and who has not been seen by his neighborssince that night, must have died from the blow. It was his body that wascremated."

  Mr. Burrows shook his head, and seemed sorry to upset the calculationsof his old friend.

  "I am afraid you cannot prove that," said he. "Tell me, what was thename of this pal? Have you learned that?"

  "Yes; Tommy White."

  "Do you know him by any other name?"

  "No; but as he is unquestionably a crook he probably has a dozenaliases."

  "One will suffice at present. Tommy White is none other than yourdisinterested informant, Jack Randal."

  "What!" exclaimed Mr. Barnes, recognizing instantly that if this weretrue his whole edifice tumbled to the ground.

  "Yes. I think that Morgan has told me a clean-cut story, though, as Isaid before, we must verify it. You see, he is a crook and ready toacquire other people's property, but I think he has a wholesome dread ofthe electric chair that will keep him out of murder. He was at one timea pal of Billy the Red, now in Sing Sing. After that fellow was put awayhe took up with Tommy White, alias Jack Randal. Randal, it seems,induced Morgan to join him in his nefarious schemes. The undertaker hastold you, perhaps, as he has told me, that he invented his patent coffinbecause of numerous grave robberies that had occurred in one of thecemeteries. He little suspected that the robbers were his twoassistants. These fellows would steal from the dead, while preparing thebodies for burial, if it seemed safe, as, for example, was the case withMr. Quadrant, where it was known that the coffin was not again to beopened. In other cases they would visit the grave together. Sometimesthey merely appropriated what jewelry there might be, but in not a fewinstances they stole the bodies as well, disposing of them to medicalstudents."

  "What a diabolical partnership!"

  "Yes, indeed. Now, coming to the saloon fight, you are correct enoughexcept as to the results. White, or Randal, was unconscious during thegreater part of the night, and in the morning had but a dim recollectionof what had occurred. He understood, however, that his injury had beenthe result of a fight with Morgan, and also that the girl Nellie had'thrown him over,' to adopt the vernacular. He therefore left theneighborhood, and though the two men continued to work for Berial, theydid not resume their friendship. White evidently was nursing hisgrievances, and only awaited an opportunity to make trouble for his oldpal Morgan. This he hoped to accomplish by the information which he gaveto you."

  "You will hardly expect me to believe that Morgan gave up his positionand left town without some better reason than a mere quarrel with hispal, and a petty theft?"

  "Morgan did not give up his position, nor did he leave town of his ownvolition. He was sent away."

  "Sent away? By whom?"

  "By the principal in this case. I told you from the first that therewere two in it. He has admitted to me what I did not know, but what Ibelieve now because you tell me the same story. He confesses that hedrugged the watchman at the stables and then drove the wagon away. Buthe denies that he either took Quadrant's body from the coffin, or indeedthat he drove the wagon to the Quadrant house. In fact, he says he waspaid to get the wagon unknown to the watchman, and that he was furnishedwith the powders with which he was to drug the man."

  "Am I to understand that one of the dead man's brothers hired Morgan todo this?"

  Mr. Barnes was thinking of his conversation with Amos Quadrant, duringwhich that gentleman had suggested that an undertaker's wagon mightapproach the house at any hour without attracting attention. He wasconsequently astonished by the younger detective's reply.

  "No," said Mr. Burrows; "he does not implicate either of the Quadrants.He declares that it was old Berial who hired him to do his part of thejob."

  XI

  New possibilities crowded into the thoughts of Mr. Barnes as he heardthis unexpected statement. Berial hired Morgan to procure the wagon! Didit follow, then, that Berial was the principal, or was he in turn butthe tool of another? Amos Quadrant had confessed that secretly it hadnot been his wish to have his brother cremated. Yet his was theauthority which had engaged the undertaker and directed the funeral. Hadhe chosen to avoid the cremation without permitting the widow to knowthat his will accomplished her wish, how easy for him to engage theundertaker to carry out his purpose, oddly planned as it was! Howreadily might the poor undertaker have been bribed by this wealthy manto take the risk! After all, if this were the explanation, wherein laythe crime? By what name would it be designated in the office of thedistrict attorney? Yet, even now, when all seemed known, two unexplainedfacts stood out prominently. How was it that the foot of the deceasedQuadrant showed no scar? And what of the assertion made by Mr. Mitchelthat a human body had been cremated? Could it be that Berial, takingadvantage of the opportunity offered by his employer, had secretlydisposed of some other body, while merely supposed to have removed RufusQuadrant from his coffin? If so, whose body was it that had beencremated, and how could identification be looked for among the ashes inthe urn at the cemetery? Mr. Barnes was chagrined to find such questionsin his mind with no answer, when Mr. Mitchel might arrive with hispromised surprise at any moment. Perhaps Morgan was lying w
hen heaccused the undertaker.

  "Have you been able yet," asked Mr. Barnes, "to verify any part of thisman's story?"

  "Well, we only arrived at six this morning, but I may say yes, I havefound some corroborative evidence."

  "What?"

  "I have the shroud in which Rufus Quadrant was dressed in his coffin."

  "That is important. Where did you find it?"

  "In quite a suggestive place. It was locked up in old Berial's privatecloset at the shop, which we searched this morning."

  "That certainly is significant. But even so, Tom, how do we know thatthis Morgan, who robs the dead and has duplicate screw-drivers foropening patented coffin fastenings, would hesitate to place a shroudwhere it would seem to substantiate his accusation of another?"

  "We do not know positively, of course. We have not fully solved thismystery yet, Mr. Barnes."

  "I fear not, Tom," said Mr. Barnes, glancing at the clock as he heard avoice asking for him in the adjoining office; "but here comes a man whoclaims that he has done so."

  Mr. Mitchel entered and saluted the two men cordially, after receivingan introduction to the younger.

  "Well, Mr. Barnes," said Mr. Mitchel, "shall I surprise you with mystory, or have you two gentlemen worked it all out?"

  "I do not know whether you will surprise us or not," said Mr. Barnes."We do not claim to have fully solved this mystery; that much we willadmit at once. But we have done a great deal of work, and have learnedfacts which must in the end lead to the truth."

  "Ah, I see. You know some things, but not all. The most important fact,of course, would be the identity of the body which is the centre of thismystery. Do you know that much?"

  "I have no doubt that it has been correctly identified," said Mr.Barnes, boldly, though not as confident as he pretended. "It was thecorpse of Rufus Quadrant, of course."

  "You are speaking of the body at the Morgue?"

  "Certainly. What other?"

  "I alluded to the body which was cremated," said Mr. Mitchel quietly.

  "It has not been proven that any body was cremated," replied Mr. Barnes.

  "Has it not? I think it has."

  "Ah, you know that? Well, tell us. Who was the man?"

  "The man in the coffin, do you mean?"

  "Yes. The man who was cremated in place of Mr. Quadrant."

  "Have you any suspicion?"

  "I did have until an hour ago. I supposed that the criminal who managedthis affair had thus disposed of the remains of a pal whom he had killedin a saloon row--a man called Tommy White."

  "No, that is wrong. The body cremated was the corpse of a woman."

  "Of a woman!" exclaimed both detectives in concert.

  "Yes, gentlemen," said Mr. Mitchel, "it was a woman's body that wasplaced in the furnace. I think, Mr. Barnes, that I suggested such apossibility to you on the day when you first called my attention to thisaffair?"

  "Yes. You said it might be a woman as well as a man. But that was merelya caution against hastily deciding as to the sex of the victim,supposing that a murder had been committed and the criminal had thusproceeded to hide his crime. But subsequent investigations have notbrought to us even a suspicion that any woman has been foully dealtwith, who could have been placed in the coffin by any who had theopportunity."

  "Which only proves," said Mr. Mitchel, "that as usual you detectiveshave worked in routine fashion, and consequently, by beginning at thewrong end, you have not reached the goal. Now I have reached the goal,and I venture the belief that I have not done one half of the work thateither of you have been compelled to bestow upon your investigations."

  "We cannot all be as intellectually brilliant as yourself," said Mr.Barnes testily.

  "Come, come, Mr. Barnes. No offense meant, I assure you. I am onlyupholding the argument, which I have advanced previously, that the veryroutine which gentlemen of your calling feel bound to follow oftenhampers if it does not hinder your work. I am merely a tyro, but notbeing professionally engaged on this case I was perhaps freer to seethings with eyes unblinded by traditional methods of work. It is just asthe onlooker often sees an opportunity to win, which the men playing agame of chess overlook. The player has his mind upon many combinationsand sees much that the onlooker does not see. So here. You and Mr.Burrows have probably discovered many things that I do not even suspect,but it has been my luck to get at the truth. If you care to hear it, Iwill describe in detail how I worked out the problem."

  "Of course we wish to hear the truth," said Mr. Barnes reluctantly;"that is, if indeed you have learned what it is."

  "Very good. As I have said, hampered by the seeming necessity offollowing your investigations along customary lines, you probably beganwith the body at the Morgue. I pursued the opposite course. The caseseemed so unique that I was convinced that the motive would prove to beequally uncommon. If the body at the Morgue were really that of Mr.Quadrant, as seemed probable from the identifications by the family andthe doctor, I was sure that it had been taken from the coffin to makeroom for the corpse of another. No other motive occurred to my mindwhich appeared to be adequate. Consequently I thought that the firstessential in unravelling the mystery would be the establishment of thefact that a human body had been cremated, and then, if possible, todiscover the identity of that body."

  "In other words, to identify the ashes of a cremated body," interjectedMr. Barnes, with a slight sneer.

  "Just so. That in itself was a problem so novel that it attracted myinterest. It is usually considered that cremation has the objectionablefeature that it offers a means of hiding the crime of murder. This ideahas contributed not a little to thwart those who have endeavored to makethis means of disposing of the dead popular. Would it not be anachievement to prove that incineration is not necessarily a barrieragainst identification?"

  "I should say so," said Mr. Barnes.

  "So thought I, and that was the task which I set myself. I visited thechief of the detective bureau, and soon interested him in my theories.He even permitted me to be present at the examination of the ashes,which was undertaken at my suggestion, an expert chemist and hisassistant going with us. At the cemetery the urn was brought forth andits contents spread out on a clean marble slab. It was not difficult todiscern that a human being had been cremated."

  "Why was it not difficult?"

  "When one hears of the ashes of the dead, perhaps it is not unnatural tothink of these human ashes as similar to cigar ashes, or the ashes of awood fire. Where complete combustion occurs the residue is but animpalpable powder. But this is not commonly the result in the cremationof the dead, or at least it does not invariably occur. It did not inthis instance, and that is the main point for us. On the contrary, someof the bones, and parts of others, sufficiently retained their form tobe readily distinguishable as having come from the human skeleton."

  "As I have never examined a cremated body," said Mr. Barnes, "I mustadmit that your statement surprises me. I had supposed that all parts ofthe body would be brought to a similar state. But even if what you sayis true, and granting that from pieces of charred bone it could bedemonstrated that a human being had been burned, still I would like youto explain how you could differentiate between man and woman."

  "Perhaps it would be difficult, or even impossible, judging from thecharred bits of skeleton alone. But if we remember that a woman's garbis different from the dress of a man, we might find a clue. For example,if you saw what could unmistakably be recognized as parts of corsetsteels, what would you think?"

  "Of course the deduction would be that the body had been that of awoman, but I should think it an odd circumstance to find that a bodyprepared for burial had been corseted."

  "The same thought occurred to me, and from it I drew an importantdeduction, since substantiated by facts. I concluded from the corsetsteels that the body had not been prepared for burial."

  "I follow you," said Mr. Barnes, now thoroughly interested in Mr.Mitchel's analytical method. "You mean that this woman was placed
in thecoffin clothed as she had died?"

  "Practically so, but I did not decide that she had necessarily diedclothed as she was when placed in the coffin. My conclusion was that itmust have been as essential to dispose of the clothing as of the body.Thus the clothing would have been placed in the coffin with her, eventhough perhaps not on her."

  "A good point! A good point!" nodded the detective, approvingly.

  "So, you see, the ashes of the dead had already revealed two clues. Weknew that a human being had been cremated, and we could feel reasonablysure, though not absolutely positive, that it had been a woman. Next,the question arose as to the identity. If cremation would hide that,then the criminal might hope to escape justice by this means."

  "It seems incredible that the ashes could be identified, unless indeedsome object, provably connected with a certain person, and which wouldresist fire, had been placed in the coffin."

  "No, that would not satisfy me. A false identification could thus beplanned by your thoughtful murderer. What I sought was some means ofidentifying the actual remains of a cremated body. I have succeeded."

  "You have succeeded?"

  "Yes. I had a theory which has proven to be a good one. If some of thebones of the body resist cremation, or at least retain their form thoughcalcined, it should follow that the teeth, being the most resistantbones, and, moreover, protected by being imbedded in other bones, mightwell be expected to remain intact. If not all, at least a sufficientnumber of them might be found to serve the ends of justice."

  "Even if you could find the teeth with shape undisturbed, I fail to seehow you could identify the remains by them."

  "The method is as reliable as it is unique. In these days of advanceddentistry, the people of this country have been educated up to such anappreciation of their dental organs that, from the highest to thelowliest, we find the people habitually saving their teeth by havingthem filled. I knew by personal experience that it is a common practiceamong dentists to register in a book of record all work done for apatient. In these records they have blank charts of the teeth, and onthe diagram of each tooth, as it is filled, they mark in ink the sizeand position of the filling inserted. Now while the teeth themselvesmight resist the heat of the furnace, retaining their shapes, we wouldnot expect the fillings, whether of gold or other material, to do so.Thus, I expected to find the teeth with cavities in them. I did findfourteen of the teeth fairly whole, sufficiently so that we mightidentify them, and know what position in the mouth they had occupied. Noless than ten of these teeth had cavities, which, from the regularity oftheir outline, it was fair to assume had been filled. These I took to mydentist for an opinion. He was at once interested, because it seemsthat members of the dental profession have long urged upon the policethe reliance that may be placed upon the dentist in identifying livingcriminals or unknown dead bodies. He examined the charred teeth, andtaking a blank chart of the mouth, he plotted out the size and positionsof the fillings which once had been present. Another very interestingpoint was that we found two teeth, known as the central incisor and thecuspid (the latter commonly called the eye-tooth), united together by astaple of platinum. This staple had of course resisted the heat becauseplatinum melts at so high a temperature. My dentist pointed out to methat this staple had been a foundation for what he called a bridge. Oneend of the staple had been forced into the root of one tooth, the otherend passing similarly into the other. Thus the space was spanned, and anartificial tooth had been attached to the bar, thus filling the space.He also pointed out that the bar was covered with a mass which wasevidently the porcelain of the tooth which had melted in the furnace."

  "This is very interesting," said Mr. Barnes, "but unless you could findthe man who did that work, you still could not identify the personcremated."

  "My dentist, as I have said, made out for me a chart of the person'smouth, which you may examine. You will see that it is quite specific.With that number of fillings, occupying definite positions in specialteeth, and coupled with the presence of the tooth bridged in and themanner of making the bridge, it would be an unexampled coincidence tofind that two persons had obtained exactly similar dental services.Would it not?"

  Missing teeth marked with X--Of 14 teeth examined 10contain cavities--16 in all.--Central incisor and cuspid united withplatinum bar, originally held by fillings.--Remains of porcelainmaterial fused on the bar.

  CHART FURNISHED BY MR. MITCHEL'S DENTIST.]

  "That is sound reasoning," said Mr. Barnes.

  "Very well. I had a statement published in the four leading dentalmagazines, accompanied by a _facsimile_ of the chart made by my dentist,and I solicited correspondence with any dentist who could show a similarchart in his records."

  "That was a good method, provided, of course, the dentist who did thework subscribed to one of these magazines."

  "Of course the advertisement might not meet the eye of the dentist whotreated the dead woman, but even though he were not a subscriber hemight hear of this matter through some acquaintance, because, as I havesaid, this subject of identification through dental work is one thatwidely interests the dentists. However, success rewarded us. I receiveda letter from a dentist in one of the New Jersey towns, stating that hebelieved he could match my chart. I lost no time in visiting him, and,after examining his book, was satisfied that the person who had beencremated that day was an elderly, eccentric woman, named Miss Lederle,Miss Martha Lederle."

  "Mr. Mitchel, you have done a remarkably clever bit of work, and thoughyou have succeeded where I have failed, I must congratulate you. Buttell me, after learning the name of the woman how did you trace her tothis city?"

  "I deserve no credit for that. It seems that Miss Lederle had long hada little fleshy tumor on the inside of her cheek, which had had anopportunity to grow because of the loss of a tooth. Her dentist oftenadvised her to have it removed, lest it might become cancerous. She putit off from time to time, but recently it had grown more rapidly, and atlast she called on the dentist and asked him to recommend a surgeon. Hetells me that he gave her the names of three, one residing in Newark,and two in this city. Of the New York men, one was Dr. Mortimer."

  "By Jove! Doctor Mortimer!" exclaimed Mr. Barnes. "I begin to seedaylight. It was he who supplied the morphine powders, then?"

  "Ah, then you know so much? Yes, Dr. Mortimer instigated the transfer ofbodies. As soon as I charged him with murder, he thought it safest totell me the truth and throw himself upon my mercy."

  "Upon your mercy?" said Mr. Barnes, mystified.

  "Yes; the man has not committed a crime, at least not the crime ofmurder. It seems that on the afternoon of the day before that fixed forthe funeral of Mr. Quadrant, this Miss Lederle called at his office andrequested him to remove the tumor from her cheek. He consented, andsuggested the use of cocaine to deaden the parts. The woman insistedthat she must have chloroform, and the doctor explained that in theabsence of his assistant he would not care to undertake theadministration of an anaesthetic. But the woman was persistent; sheoffered a liberal fee if the operation could be done immediately, sinceit had required so much time for her to bring her courage to the pointof having the tumor removed; then the operation itself seemed so simplethat at last the surgeon was overruled, and proceeded. He did cause thepatient to remove her corset, and, her garments thoroughly loosened, shewas placed on the operating-table. He says he administered very littlechloroform, and had not yet attempted to operate when the patientexhibited dangerous symptoms. In spite of his most untiring efforts shesuccumbed, and he found himself in the dreadful position of having apatient die under an operation, with no witnesses present. He closed andlocked his office and walked from the house in great mental agitation.He called at the Quadrants', and heard there that the coffin would notagain be opened. Then a great temptation came to him. The woman had notgiven him her address, nor had she stated who had sent her to Dr.Mortimer, merely declaring that she knew him by reputation. There was noway to communicate with the woman's relatives except by makin
g theaffair public. He recalled that a similar accident to an old surgeon oflong-established reputation, where several assistants had been present,had nevertheless ruined the man's practice. He himself was innocent ofwrong-doing, except, perhaps, that the law forbade him to operate alone,and he saw ruin staring him in the face, just at a time, too, when greatprosperity had appeared to be within his grasp. The undertaker, Berial,was an old acquaintance, indebted to him for many recommendations.

  "The plan seemed more and more feasible as he thought of it, and finallyhe sought out Berial, and confided to him his secret. For a liberal feethe undertaker agreed to dispose of the body. Dr. Mortimer supplied himwith a drug with which to overcome the watchman at the stables, so thatthe wagon could be taken out unknown. He himself visited the Quadranthouse, and, under the plea of relieving Mark Quadrant of a headache,gave him also a dose of morphine. At the appointed time Berial arrivedat the doctor's office and took away the woman's body, first replacingthe corset, which, of course, they were bound to dispose of. Togetherthey went to the Quadrants', and there exchanged the bodies. Subsequentevents are known to you. Thus the truth has arisen, Phoenix-like, fromthe ashes of the dead. The question remaining is, what claim has Justiceupon the doctor? Gentlemen, is it needful to disgrace that man, whoreally is a victim of circumstances rather than a wrong-doer? He tellsme, Mr. Barnes, that he has not had a moment of mental rest since youasked him whether ashes could be proven to be the residue of a humanbody."

  "I recall now that he started violently when I spoke to him. Perhaps,had I been more shrewd, I might have suspected the truth then. Thedifficulty of hushing this matter up, Mr. Mitchel, seems to be thefriends and relatives of the dead woman. How can they be appeased?"

  "I will undertake that. I think the real estate which she leaves behindwill satisfy the one relative. I have already communicated with thisman, a hard, money-grubbing old skinflint, and I think that with theassistance of Mr. Berial we can have one more funeral that will satisfythe curiosity of the few neighbors."

  And thus the matter was permitted to rest. There was yet one point whichpuzzled Mr. Barnes, and which never was made clear to him.

  "What of the scar that I could not find on Rufus Quadrant's foot?" heoften asked himself. But as he could not ask either of the brothers, henever got a reply. Yet the explanation was simple. Mark Quadrant toldMr. Barnes that his brother had such a scar, his object being to bafflethe detective by suggesting to him a flaw in the identification. Theidea occurred to him because his brother Amos really had such a scarredfoot, and he so worded his remark that he literally told the truth,though he deceived Mr. Barnes. When the detective repeated thisstatement to Amos, he noticed the care with which his brother hadspoken, and, in turn, he truthfully said that his brother had spokentruthfully.