ght of understanding dawned on Paynter's face. "So that was it, was
it!" he muttered.

"Does all our mythological mystery end with a policeman collaring a
butler? Well, I agree with you he is far from an ordinary butler, even
to look at; and the fault in imagination is mine. Like many faults in
imagination, it was simply snobbishness."

"We don't go quite so fast as that," observed the officer, in an
impassive manner. "I only said I found the inquiry pointing to Miles;
and that he was well worthy of attention. He was much more in the old
Squire's confidence than many people supposed; and when I cross-examined
him he told me a good deal that was worth knowing. I've got it all down
in these notes here; but at the moment I'll only trouble you with
one detail of it. One night this butler was just outside the Squire's
dining-room door, when he heard the noise of a violent quarrel. The
Squire was a violent gentleman, from time to time; but the curious thing
about this scene was that the other gentleman was the more violent of
the two. Miles heard him say repeatedly that the Squire was a public
nuisance, and that his death would be a good riddance for everybody. I
only stop now to tell you that the other gentleman was Dr. Burton Brown,
the medical man of this village.

"The next examination I made was that of Martin, the woodcutter. Upon
one point at least his evidence is quite clear, and is, as you will
see, largely confirmed by other witnesses. He says first that the doctor
prevented him from recovering his ax, and this is corroborated by Mr.
and Mrs. Treherne. But he says further that the doctor admitted having
the thing himself; and this again finds support in other evidence by the
gardener, who saw the doctor, some time afterward, come by himself and
pick up the chopper. Martin says that Doctor Brown repeatedly refused to
give it up, alleging some fanciful excuse every time. And, finally, Mr.
Paynter, we will hear the evidence of the ax itself."

He laid the woodman's tool on the table in front of him, and began to
rip up and unwrap the curious linen covering round the handle.

"You will admit this is an odd bandage," he said. "And that's just the
odd thing about it, that it really is a bandage. This white stuff is the
sort of lint they use in hospitals, cut into strips like this. But most
doctors keep some; and I have the evidence of Jake the fisherman, with
whom Doctor Brown lived for some time, that the doctor had