in every
case of dismemberment that I am acquainted with. To an ordinary
person, the arm seems to join on to the trunk at the shoulder-joint,
and that is where he would naturally sever it. What explanation do you
suggest of this unusual mode of severing the arm?"

"Do you think the fellow could have been a butcher?" I asked,
remembering Dr. Summers' remark. "This is the way a shoulder of mutton
is taken off."

"No," replied Thorndyke. "A butcher includes the scapula in a shoulder
of mutton for a specific purpose, namely, to take off a given quantity
of meat. And also, as a sheep has no clavicle, it is the easiest way
to detach the limb. But I imagine a butcher would find himself in
difficulties if he attempted to take off a man's arm in that way. The
clavicle would be a new and perplexing feature. Then, too, a butcher
does not deal very delicately with his subject; if he has to divide a
joint, he just cuts through it and does not trouble himself to avoid
marking the bones. But you note here that there is not a single
scratch or score on any one of the bones, not even where the finger was
removed. Now, if you have ever prepared bones for a museum, as I have,
you will remember the extreme care that is necessary in disarticulating
joints to avoid disfiguring the articular ends of the bones with cuts
and scratches."

"Then you think that the person who dismembered this body must have had
some anatomical knowledge and skill?"

"That is what has been suggested. The suggestion is not mine."

"Then I infer that you don't agree?"

Thorndyke smiled. "I am sorry to be so cryptic, Berkeley, but you
understand that I can't make statements. Still, I am trying to lead
you to make certain inferences from the facts that are in your
possession."

"If I make the right inference, will you tell me?" I asked.

"It won't be necessary," he answered, with the same quiet smile. "When
you have fitted the puzzle together you don't need to be told you have
done it."

It was most infernally tantalizing. I pondered on the problem with a
scowl of such intense cogitation that Thorndyke laughed outright.

"It seems to me," I said, at length, "that the identity of the remains
is the primary question and that it is a question of fact. It doesn't
seem any use to speculate about it."

"Exactly. Either these bones are the remains of John Bellingham or
they are not. There will be no doubt on the subject when all the bones
are