t at present; but I shall be happy to investigate the matter to my
utmost ability."

"But you do not wish to leave London at present?"

"That is so; but a matter of such importance cannot be set aside. It
appears, from what you say, that Wynne's life hangs more or less on my
being able to clear away the mystery?"

"That is indeed the case. There ought not to be a single stone left
unturned to get at the truth, for the sake of Wynne. Well, Mr. Bell,
what do you propose to do?"

"To see the place without delay," I answered.

"That is right; when can you come?"

"Whenever you please."

"Will you come down to Felwyn with me to-morrow? I shall leave
Paddington by the 7.10, and if you will be my guest I shall be only too
pleased to put you up."

"That arrangement will suit me admirably," I replied. "I will meet you
by the train you mention, and the affair shall have my best attention."

"Thank you," he said, rising. He shook hands with me and took his leave.

The next day I met Bainbridge at Paddington Station, and we were soon
flying westward in the luxurious private compartment that had been
reserved for him. I could see by his abstracted manner and his long
lapses of silence that the mysterious affair at Felwyn Tunnel was
occupying all his thoughts.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon when the train slowed down at the
little station of Felwyn. The station-master was at the door in an
instant to receive us.

"I have some terribly bad news for you, sir," he said, turning to
Bainbridge as we alighted; "and yet in one sense it is a relief, for it
seems to clear Wynne."

"What do you mean?" cried Bainbridge. "Bad news? Speak out at once!"

"Well, sir, it is this: there has been another death at Felwyn
signal-box. John Davidson, who was on duty last night, was found dead at
an early hour this morning in the very same place where we found poor
Pritchard."

"Good God!" cried Bainbridge, starting back, "what an awful thing! What,
in the name of Heaven, does it mean, Mr. Bell? This is too fearful.
Thank goodness you have come down with us."

"It is as black a business as I ever heard of, sir," echoed the
station-master; "and what we are to do I don't know. Poor Davidson was
found dead this morning, and there was neither mark nor sign of what
killed him--that is the extraordinary part of it. There's a perfect
panic abroad, and not a signalman on the line will take duty to-night. I
was quite in despair, and was a