r something
abstruse and telepathic."

"Simplicity is the soul of efficiency, sir," replied Polton as he
checked the tea-service to make sure that nothing was forgotten, and
with this remarkable aphorism he silently evaporated.

"To return to the Bellingham case," said Thorndyke, when he had poured
out the tea. "Have you picked up any facts relating to the parties--any
facts, I mean, of course, that it would be proper for you to mention?"

"I have learned one or two things that there is no harm in repeating.
For instance, I gather that Godfrey Bellingham--my patient--lost all his
property quite suddenly about the time of the disappearance."

"That is really odd," said Thorndyke. "The opposite condition would be
quite understandable, but one doesn't see exactly how this can have
happened, unless there was an allowance of some sort."

"No, that was what struck me. But there seem to be some queer features
in the case, and the legal position is evidently getting complicated.
There is a will, for example, which is giving trouble."

"They will hardly be able to administer the will without either proof or
presumption of death," Thorndyke remarked.

"Exactly. That's one of the difficulties. Another is that there seems to
be some fatal defect in the drafting of the will itself. I don't know
what it is, but I expect I shall hear sooner or later. By the way, I
mentioned the interest that you had taken in the case, and I think
Bellingham would have liked to consult you, but, of course, the poor
devil has no money."

"That is awkward for him if the other interested parties have. There
will probably be legal proceedings of some kind, and as the law takes no
account of poverty, he is likely to go to the wall. He ought to have
advice of some sort."

"I don't see how he is to get it," said I.

"Neither do I," Thorndyke admitted. "There are no hospitals for
impecunious litigants; it is assumed that only persons of means have a
right to go to law. Of course, if we knew the man and the circumstances
we might be able to help him; but, for all we know to the contrary, he
may be an arrant scoundrel."

I recalled the strange conversation that I had overheard, and wondered
what Thorndyke would have thought of it if it had been allowable for me
to repeat it. Obviously it was not, however, and I could only give my
own impressions.

"He doesn't strike me as that," I said; "but, of course, one never
knows. Personally, he impressed me