"
He died the day before yesterday. He was buried at
eight to-day," I explained; and then I told him the whole
story from the beginning. He listened attentively and
took a note or two.
"Who signed the certificate?" he asked.
"I did," said I.
He raised his eyebrows slightly. "There is really no
one to check your statement then?" said he.
"Oh yes, Dr. Porter saw him the night before he died.
He knew all about the case."
The detective shut his note-book with a snap. "That
is final, Dr. Munro," said he. "Of course I must see Dr.
Porter as a matter of form, but if his opinion agrees
with yours I can only apologise to you for this
intrusion."
"And there is one more thing, Mr. Detective, sir,"
said Whitehall explosively. "I'm not a rich man, sir,
only the ---- half-pay skipper of an armed transport; but
by ----, sir, I'd give you this hat full of dollars to
know the name of the ---- rascal who wrote that anonymous
letter, sir. By ---- sir, you'd have a real case to look
after then." And he waved his black thorn ferociously.
So the wretched business ended, Bertie. But on what
trifling chances do our fortunes depend! If Porter had
not seen him that night, it is more than likely that
there would have been an exhumation. And then,--well,
there would be chloral in the body; some money interests
DID depend upon the death of the lad--a sharp lawyer
might have made much of the case.
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