for him.

"Telegrams for you all. They didn't phone, suh, 'cause you done
tole 'em not to phone no telegrams. De man am waitin' foh an
ansuh."

Justice Higginbotham selected one of the telegrams and ripped open
the flap. There was no change in his fine mobile features, but his
eyes were fixed on the message for a long time. He was brought to
himself by the negro.

"Am they any reply, Jedge?"

Justice Higginbotham, without raising his eyes from his message
said, gently:

"No, Charley, no reply." Turing to the rest of the group he said,
still gently: "My message is just the word 'fourteen,' that's all,
just 'fourteen.' The other messages are probably--but you'd better
look yourselves." He walked about the group and gave each of his
ten associates one of the envelopes. He then held out his message
to Professor Brierly. Jimmy saw the message. It bore the word,
'fourteen'; it had no signature.

Jimmy gripped the arms of his chair as he looked about the other
men on the porch. There was a rustling and tearing of paper as
flaps were ripped open. Some of them did it quickly, some of them
held their envelopes for a short time before opening them.

When the rustling ceased, Thomas Marshall stood up. He said grimly
to Professor Brierly:

"Here is your case, Professor, all complete. You've got it now
with all the trimmings."

Chapter IV

With John Fletcher, former Justice of the Supreme Court of the
State of New York, at one end of a telephone, official red tape
was quickly and effectively cut. Professor Herman Brierly was
given the powers and privileges necessary for an independent
investigation.

Less than an hour after the receipt of the telegrams, Professor
Brierly, accompanied by McCall, Matthews and Jimmy Hale, was at
the office of the medical examiner, who was charged with making
the official report on deaths by other than natural means.

Dr. Simpson showed the old savant marked respect. Parts of the
story had leaked out somehow and the knowledge that behind
Professor Brierly were such distinguished names had its effect,
apart from the weight that the old scientist's own name carried.

The four men were led into a small bare chamber, behind the office
of the medical examiner, where all the earthly remains of Morris
Miller lay on an enameled metal slab.

Dr. Simpson drew aside the sheet, saying:

"I've not yet had time to make a post mortem, Professor, but that
will be only a formal gesture in this