hance.

"You would like to see the weapon, sir, I suppose?" he remarked, when he
had introduced himself.

"The umbrella-spike," Thorndyke corrected. "Yes, if I may. We are going
to the mortuary now."

"Then you'll pass the station on the way; so, if you care to look in, I
will walk up with you."

This proposition being agreed to, we all proceeded to the
police-station, including the station-master, who was on the very tiptoe
of curiosity.

"There you are, sir," said the inspector, unlocking his office, and
ushering us in. "Don't say we haven't given every facility to the
defence. There are all the effects of the accused, including the very
weapon the deed was done with."

"Come, come," protested Thorndyke; "we mustn't be premature." He took
the stout ash staff from the officer, and, having examined the
formidable spike through a lens, drew from his pocket a steel
calliper-gauge, with which he carefully measured the diameter of the
spike, and the staff to which it was fixed. "And now," he said, when he
had made a note of the measurements in his book, "we will look at the
colour-box and the sketch. Ha! a very orderly man, your brother. Mr.
Stopford. Tubes all in their places, palette-knives wiped clean, palette
cleaned off and rubbed bright, brushes wiped--they ought to be washed
before they stiffen--all this is very significant." He unstrapped the
sketch from the blank canvas to which it was pinned, and, standing it on
a chair in a good light, stepped back to look at it.

"And you tell me that that is only three hours' work!" he exclaimed,
looking at the lawyer. "It is really a marvellous achievement."

"My brother is a very rapid worker," replied Stopford dejectedly.

"Yes, but this is not only amazingly rapid; it is in his very happiest
vein--full of spirit and feeling. But we mustn't stay to look at it
longer." He replaced the canvas on its pins, and having glanced at the
locket and some other articles that lay in a drawer, thanked the
inspector for his courtesy and withdrew.

"That sketch and the colour-box appear very suggestive to me," he
remarked, as we walked up the street.

"To me also," said Stopford gloomily, "for they are under lock and key,
like their owner, poor old fellow."

He sighed heavily, and we walked on in silence.

The mortuary-keeper had evidently heard of our arrival, for he was
waiting at the door with the key in his hand, and, on being shown the
coroner's order, unlocked the do