e, as it were."

"Oho!" said Cleek; "then the major is a neighbour as well as a rival for
the Derby plate. I see! I see!"

"No, you don't--altogether," said Sir Henry quickly. "Lambson-Bowles is
a brute and a bounder in many ways, but--well, I don't believe he is
low-down enough to do this sort of thing, and with murder attached to
it, too, although he did try to bribe poor Tolliver to leave me. Offered
my trainer double wages, too, to chuck me and take up his horses."

"Oh, he did that, did he? Sure of it, Sir Henry?"

"Absolutely. Saw the letter he wrote to Logan."

"Hum-m-m! Feel that you can rely on Logan, do you?"

"To the last grasp. He's as true to me as my own shadow. If you want
proof of it, Mr. Cleek, he's going to sit in the stable and keep guard
himself to-night, in the face of what happened to Murple and Tolliver."

"Murple is the groom who was paralysed, is he not?" said Cleek, after a
moment. "Singular thing that. What paralysed him, do you think?"

"Heavens knows. He might just as well have been killed as poor Tolliver
was, for he'll never be any use again, the doctors say. Some injury to
the spinal column, and with it a curious affection of the throat and
tongue. He can neither swallow nor speak. Nourishment has to be
administered by tube, and the tongue is horribly swollen."

"I am of the opinion, Cleek," put in Narkom, "that strangulation is
merely part of the procedure of the rascal who makes these diabolical
nocturnal visits. In other words, that he is armed with some
quick-acting infernal poison, which he forces into the mouths of his
victims. That paralysis of the muscles of the throat is one of the
symptoms of prussic acid poisoning, you must remember."

"I do remember, Mr. Narkom," replied Cleek enigmatically. "My memory is
much stimulated by these details, I assure you. I gather from them that,
whatever is administered, Murple did not get quite so much of it as
Tolliver, or he, too, would be dead. Sir Henry"--he turned again to the
baronet--"do you trust everybody else connected with your establishment
as much as you trust Logan?"

"Yes. There's not a servant connected with the hall that hasn't been in
my service for years, and all are loyal to me."

"May I ask who else is in the house besides the servants?"

"My wife, Lady Wilding, for one; her cousin, Mr. Sharpless, who is on a
visit to us, for another; and for a third, my uncle, the Rev. Ambrose
Smeer, the famous revivalist."