case. This is obviously
suicide."

Professor Brierly, who did not mince words when engaged in a
scientific investigation, took one look at the hole in the temple
with its encircling powder marks. He snapped:

"This is obviously _not_ suicide; certainly not, if this wound was
the cause of death, which neither you nor I at present know. Have
you the weapon with which this was done?"

Dr. Simpson reddened.

"The police have that, sir."

"And the bullet--oh, of course you have not extracted that. We will
do it together, if you please."

Professor Brierly began taking off his coat and vest, Matthews
doing likewise.

Dr. Simpson said tartly:

"Since you know so much about it without examination, and are so
cock sure that it isn't suicide, why bother with such trifles as
the weapon and the bullet. You might have sat down and written a
thesis about it without even seeing the body."

Professor Brierly whirled on him bristling. Matthews, coat and
vest in hand, slid between them. They were of equal height.
Matthews looked at the other and said softly:

"Doctor, it isn't safe or wise to talk to Professor Brierly that
way when I'm around. We don't want any trouble. You were told to
give Professor Brierly the fullest opportunity and help in making
this post mortem. We don't need your help, but it would be wiser
not to interfere."

Dr. Simpson was looking into a pair of dangerously cold blue eyes.
Nothing made Matthews as angry as an affront to the man who was
more than father to him. Dr. Simpson saw the rippling muscles, he
saw the clean cut jaw; he remembered the names of the men who were
behind this investigation. He retreated gracefully.

"Oh, all right, but it disturbs a professional man to have his
word questioned so lightly. I have some reputation--just a minute,
I'll bring the instruments."

Jimmy asked Matthews:

"How long will this take, Jack?"

"Perhaps an hour, Jimmy, why do you ask?"

"Nothing, I want to go out and use the phone. I'll be back before
you're through."

For the past half hour Jimmy had been outwardly calm, but inwardly
raging with impatience. Minutes became a matter of supreme
importance now. James Hale, the newspaper man, now had a big
story, and it was important to catch the Eagle's home edition if
possible. This was July Fourth. On this day, while they issued a
paper, they kept only a skeleton staff. With nothing big breaking
they were likely to put the home edition to bed and ca