proper sentiments and finally
wished the porter "good night." We passed out through the gateway into
Wych Street, and, turning our faces eastward towards the Temple, set
forth in silence, each thinking his own thoughts. What Thorndyke's were
I cannot tell, though I have no doubt that he was busily engaged in
piecing together all that he had seen and heard and considering its
possible application to the case in hand.

As to me, my mind was in a whirl of confusion. All this searching and
examining seemed to be the mere flogging of a dead horse. The will was
obviously a perfectly valid and regular will and there was an end of the
matter. At least, so it seemed to me. But clearly that was not
Thorndyke's view. His investigations were certainly not purposeless;
and, as I walked by his side trying to conceive some purpose in his
actions, I only became more and more mystified as I recalled them one
by one, and perhaps most of all by the cryptic questions that I had just
heard him address to the equally mystified porter.

Chapter VIII

The Track Chart

As Thorndyke and I arrived at the main gateway of the Temple and he
swung round into the narrow lane, it was suddenly borne in on me that I
had made no arrangements for the night. Events had followed one another
so continuously and each had been so engrossing that I had lost sight of
what I may call my domestic affairs.

"We seem to be heading for your chambers, Thorndyke," I ventured to
remark. "It is a little late to think of it, but I have not yet settled
where I am to put up to-night."

"My dear fellow," he replied, "you are going to put up in your own
bedroom which has been waiting in readiness for you ever since you left
it. Polton went up and inspected it as soon as you arrived. I take it
that you will consider my chambers yours until such time as you may join
the benedictine majority and set up a home for yourself."

"That is very handsome of you," said I. "You didn't mention that the
billet you offered was a resident appointment."

"Rooms and commons included," said Thorndyke; and when I protested that
I should at least contribute to the costs of living he impatiently
waved the suggestion away. We were still arguing the question when we
reached our chambers--as I will now call them--and a diversion was
occasioned by my taking the lamp from my pocket and placing it on the
table.

"Ah," my colleague remarked, "that is a little reminder. We will put it