When it had been broken down, the interior of the laboratory showed how fierce the fire had been. Every trace of wood had been consumed, and solid metal fittings had been melted into unrecognizable shapes. Among the debris on the floor lay a charred human skeleton, upon one of the fingers of which was a half-melted gold ring, of which enough remained for the superintendent to identify it as having been habitually worn by Morlandson. The remains of the unfortunate man were huddled up by the door, the key of which was in the lock. It was clear that Morlandson had tried to make his way out when the fire broke out, but had been overcome by the fumes of the burning chemicals before he could achieve his purpose. He had been in the habit of locking the door in order to secure himself from interruption.
“You have made notes upon this?” asked the Professor. “Good. File them away. I confess that there are many things about this man Morlandson which I do not yet understand. I was able to supplement your account of the trial by an examination of the original records, which I was allowed to make. These gave me considerable food for thought. I believe that, through a pure accident, I have stumbled upon one of the most curious occurrences of modern times. I can, as yet, only conjecture, and so far my conjectures are wholly unsupported by fact. Much research will be necessary before these facts can be established, and it is possible that I may not be spared for a sufficient time to carry out this research.”
“Not be spared, sir!” exclaimed Harold, startled by the grave tone of the Professor’s voice. “Why, you have many years before you yet, I hope.”
“Death comes to us all, sooner, perhaps, than we expect,” replied Dr. Priestley. “And I feel, this evening, that death may be closer to me than I have supposed. Ah, do I hear someone in the hall?”
With a nervous movement, entirely foreign to him, Dr. Priestley rose from his chair and stood facing the door. Harold, with a queer feeling of expectation, walked towards it and opened it. In the hall stood Inspector Hanslet, handing his coat and hat to Mary.
“Good evening, Mr. Merefield, I thought I’d look round and see if the Professor had any information for me,” he said. “May I see him?”
“Yes, come in by all means,” replied Harold, with a sudden sense of relief. “But I shouldn’t stay too long, if I were you. He’s rather tired and nervy tonight.”
Hanslet nodded, and Harold led the way into the study. “It’s Inspector Hanslet, sir,” he said.
The Professor appeared to have entirely recovered his usual equanimity. “Ah, good evening, Inspector,” he said blandly. “I half expected that you would be round this evening. I am very glad to see you.”
“I thought I would come round, on the chance that you had some hint to give me,” replied Hanslet. “I can’t make head or tail of the business I told you about last night. The more I think about it, the more puzzling it seems. It’s the utter lack of motive that makes it all so inexplicable.”
“I believe, mind, I say only that I believe, that I have discovered the motive,” said the Professor quietly.
“You have!” exclaimed Hanslet excitedly. Then, seeing the slow movement of the Professor’s head, he smiled. “I know you won’t tell me until you are certain,” he continued. “But at least tell me this. Are there likely to be any more of these mysterious deaths?”
“There will be one more, unless I am able to prevent it,” replied the Professor.
XV
The Bone Counters
Mr. Ludgrove, as Hanslet had said to Dr. Priestley, bore the shock of the finding of the numbered counter extremely well. He had refused to make any alteration in usual habits, and it was with the greatest difficulty that Whyland could persuade him to allow a constable to sleep in the house at night.
“I can assure you that this mysterious warning does not terrify me,” he had said. “I am an old man, and death cannot be far off in any case. I am not sure that I should not prefer a violent end to some lingering illness which might leave me helpless for months before it killed me. But, if you think that by keeping a close watch over me you can gain some clue to the distributor of these counters, by all means do so.”
He was in this frame of mind when Hanslet came to see him on the Sunday afternoon. Whyland brought him round and introduced him, and Mr. Ludgrove welcomed him with his usual courtesy.
“I have heard of you, Inspector Hanslet, and I am indeed proud to make your acquaintance. Sit down, and make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ludgrove,” Hanslet replied. “I thought you wouldn’t mind my coming to have a chat with you. Whyland here has told me all about these queer happenings in this street of yours, and of the help which you have been to him.”
“I am afraid that I have been of very little help,” said Mr. Ludgrove with a smile. “Inspector Whyland has been kind enough to appreciate beyond their value any suggestions I have made.”
“Well, that’s as may be,” replied Hanslet. “Now, Mr. Ludgrove, I am going to ask for further assistance on your part. You know as much about these counters as I do. They seem to have been sent, so far, to six men, all of whom have died shortly after they received them. Whyland tells me that he has utterly failed to establish any connection
