score, I can assure you."

"How did you find him that morning?" asked Kennedy, as if to turn off
this unlocking of family secrets to strangers.

"That's the worst part of the whole affair," replied Tom, and even in
the dusk I could see the lines of his face tighten. "You know Uncle
Lewis was a hard drinker, but he never seemed to show it much. We
had been out on the lake in the motor-boat fishing all the afternoon
and--well, I must admit both my uncles had had frequent recourse to
'pocket pistols,' and I remember they referred to it each time as
'bait.' Then after supper nothing would do but fizzes and rickeys. I was
disgusted, and after reading a bit went to bed. Harrington and my uncles
sat up with Doctor Putnam--according to Uncle Jim--for a couple of
hours longer. Then Harrington, Doctor Putnam, and Uncle Jim went to bed,
leaving Uncle Lewis still drinking. I remember waking in the night, and
the house seemed saturated with a peculiar odour. I never smelt anything
like it in my life. So I got up and slipped into my bathrobe. I met
Grace in the hall. She was sniffing.

"'Don't you smell something burning?' she asked.

"I said I did and started down-stairs to investigate. Everything was
dark, but that smell was all over the house. I looked in each
room down-stairs as I went, but could see nothing. The kitchen and
dining-room were all right. I glanced into the living-room, but, while
the smell was more noticeable there, I could see no evidence of a fire
except the dying embers on the hearth. It had been coolish that night,
and we had had a few logs blazing. I didn't examine the room--there
seemed no reason for it. We went back to our rooms, and in the morning
they found the gruesome object I had missed in the darkness and shadows
of the living-room."

Kennedy was intently listening. "Who found him?" he asked.

"Harrington," replied Tom. "He roused us. Harrington's theory is that
uncle set himself on fire with a spark from his cigar--a charred cigar
butt was found on the floor."

We found Tom's relatives a saddened, silent party in the face of the
tragedy. Kennedy and I apologised very profusely for our intrusion, but
Tom quickly interrupted, as we had agreed, by explaining that he had
insisted on our coming, as old friends on whom he felt he could rely,
especially to set the matter right in the newspapers.

I think Craig noticed keenly the reticence of the family group in the
mystery--I might almost have call