"I should be very sorry to say whose bones they are," I replied. "One
bone is very much like another, you know."

"I suppose it is," he agreed; "but I thought that, with all that
measuring and all those notes, you might have arrived at something
definite." Evidently he was disappointed in me; and I was somewhat
disappointed in myself when I contrasted Thorndyke's elaborate
instructions with the meager result of my investigations. For what did
my discoveries amount to? And how much was the inquiry advanced by the
few entries in my notebook?

The bones were apparently those of a man of fair though not remarkable
muscular development; over thirty years of age, but how much older I
was unable to say. His height I judged roughly to be five feet eight
inches, but my measurements would furnish data for a more exact
estimate by Thorndyke. Beyond this the bones were quite
uncharacteristic. There were no signs of disease either local or
general, no indications of injuries either old or recent, no departures
of any kind from the normal or usual; and the dismemberment had been
effected with such care that there was not a single scratch on any of
the separate surfaces. Of adipocere (the peculiar waxy or soapy
substance that is commonly found in bodies that have slowly decayed in
damp situations) there was not a trace; and the only remnant of the
soft structures was a faint indication, like a spot of dried glue, of
the tendon on the tip of the right elbow.

The sergeant was in the act of replacing the sheet, with the air of a
showman who has just given an exhibition, when there came a sharp
rapping on the mortuary door. The officer finished spreading the sheet
with official precision, and having ushered me out into the lobby
turned the key and admitted three persons, holding the door open after
they had entered for me to go out. But the appearance of the newcomers
inclined me to linger. One of them was a local constable, evidently in
official charge; a second was a laboring man, very wet and muddy, who
carried a small sack; while in the third I thought I scented a
professional brother.

The sergeant continued to hold the door open.

"Nothing more I can do for you, sir?" he asked genially.

"Is that the divisional surgeon?" I inquired.

"Yes. I am the divisional surgeon," the newcomer answered. "Did you
want anything of me?"

"This," said the sergeant, "is a medical gentleman who has got
permission from the coro