uppose," said the inspector when I had checked
the bones and found them all present.

"I should be more happy," I replied, "if I knew what you were searching
for in this pond. You weren't looking for the foot, were you?"

"I was looking for anything that I might find," he answered. "I shall
go on searching until we have the whole body. I shall go through all
the streams and ponds around here, excepting Connaught Water. That I
shall leave to the last, as it will be a case of dredging from a boat
and isn't so likely as the smaller ponds. Perhaps the head will be
there; it's deeper than any of the others."

It now occurred to me that as I had learned all that I was likely to
learn, which was little enough, I might as well leave the inspector to
pursue his researches unembarrassed by my presence. Accordingly I
thanked him for his assistance and departed by the way I had come.

But as I retraced my steps along the shady path I speculated profoundly
on the officer's proceedings. My examinations of the mutilated hand
had yielded the conclusion that the finger had been removed after death
or shortly before, but more probably after. Some one else had
evidently arrived at the same conclusion, and had communicated his
opinion to Inspector Badger; for it was clear that that gentleman was
in full cry after the missing finger. But why was he searching for it
here when the hand had been found at Sidcup? And what did he expect to
learn from it when he found it? There is nothing particularly
characteristic about a finger, or, at least, the bones of one; and the
object of the present researches was to determine the identity of the
person of whom these bones were the remains. There was something
mysterious about the affair, something suggesting that Inspector Badger
was in possession of private information of some kind. But what
information could he have? And whence could he have obtained it?
These were questions to which I could find no answer, and I was still
fruitlessly revolving them when I arrived at the modest inn where the
inquest was to be held, and where I proposed to fortify myself with a
correspondingly modest lunch as a preparation for my attendance at the
inquiry.

CHAPTER XIII

THE CORONER'S QUEST

The proceedings of that fine old institution, the coroner's court, are
apt to have their dignity impaired by the somewhat unjudicial
surroundings amidst which they are conducted. The present inquiry wa