k upon the dead man's face. "Hum-m-m! I see, I
see! Have you investigated this thing, Doctor? It is interesting."

"I fail to see the point of interest, then," replied Doctor Hague,
bending over and examining the spot. "The skin is scarcely more than
abraded--evidently by the finger nail scratching off the head of some
infinitesimal pustule."

"Possibly," agreed Cleek, "but on the other hand, it may be something
of a totally different character--for one thing, the possible point
at which contact was established between the man's blood and
something of a poisonous character. An injection of cyanide of
potassium, for instance, would cause death, and account in a
measure for this suggestion of asphyxia conveyed by the expression of
the features."

"True, my good sir; but have the goodness to ask yourself who
could get into the place to administer such hypodermic? And, if
self-administered, what can have become of the syringe? If thrown
from one of the bowman's slits, it could only have fallen upon the
roof of the wing, and I assure you that was searched most thoroughly
long before your arrival. I don't think you will go so far as to
suggest that it was shot in, attached to some steel missile capable
of making a wound; for no such missile is, as you see, embedded in
the flesh nor was one lying anywhere about the floor. The cyanide of
potassium theory is ingenious, but I'm afraid it won't hold water."

"Hold water!" The phrase brought Cleek's thoughts harking back to
what he had been told regarding the little puddle of water lying
on the floor, and of a sudden his eyes narrowed, and the curious
one-sided smile travelled up his cheek.

"No, I suppose not," he said, replying to the doctor's remark.
"Besides, your test tubes would have settled that when it settled the
carbon monoxide question. Had cyanide been present, the specimens
of blood would have been clotted and blue."

Of a sudden it seemed to dawn upon the doctor that this didn't smack
quite so much of Board School intelligence as he had fancied, and,
facing round, he looked at Cleek with a new-born interest.

"I beg your pardon," he said, "but I don't think I caught your name,
Mr.--er--er----"

"Cleek, Doctor; Hamilton Cleek, at your service."

"Good Lord! That is, I--er--er--my dear sir, my dear Mr. Cleek, if
there is any intelligence I can possibly supply, pray command me."

"With pleasure, Doctor, and thank you very much indeed for the kind
offer. I ha