tumbled to it that the usual way off the moor was
pretty well guarded, and he'd doubled back through the thin line of woods
close to the house. I dug one of my poachers' pits, sir, and covered it
over with a lot of loose stuff. That got him all right. When I went to
look this morning I saw where he'd fallen through, and there he was,
walking round and round at the bottom like a caged animal. Your servants
have telephoned for the police, Mr. Ashleigh," he went on, turning to the
Professor, "but I'd like you just to point out to the Scotland Yard
gentleman--called us yokels, he did, when he first came down--that we've a
few ideas of our own down here."

Quest suddenly whispered to the Professor. Then he turned to the keeper.

"Bring him upstairs, Middleton, for a moment," he directed. "Follow us,
please."

The Professor gripped Quest's arm as they ascended the stairs.

"What is this?" he asked hoarsely. "What is it you wish to do?"

"It's just an idea of my own," Quest replied. "I rather believe in that
sort of thing. I want to confront him with the result of his crime."

The Professor stopped short. His eyes were half-closed.

"It is too horrible!" he muttered.

"Nothing could be too horrible for an inhuman being like this," Quest
answered tersely. "I want to see whether he'll commit himself."

They passed into the bedchamber. Quest signed to the keeper to bring Craig
to the side of the four-poster. Then he drew down the sheet.

"Is that your work?" he asked sternly.

Craig, up till then, had spoken no word. He had shambled to the bedside, a
broken, yet in a sense, a stolid figure. The sight of the dead man,
however, seemed to galvanise him into sudden and awful vitality. He threw
up his arms. His eyes were horrible as they glared at those small black
marks. His lips moved, helplessly at first. Then at last he spoke.

"Strangled!" he cried. "One more!"

"That is your work," the criminologist said firmly.

Craig collapsed. He would have fallen bodily to the ground if Middleton's
grip had not kept him up. Quest bent over him. It was clear that he had
fainted. They led him from the room.

"We'd better lock him up until the police arrive," Quest suggested. "I
suppose there is a safe place somewhere?"

The Professor awoke from his stupor.

"Let me show you," he begged. "I know the way. We've a subterranean
hiding-place which no criminal on this earth could escape from."

They led him down to the back part