em to you, together with the further
problems of the possible motive--excluding robbery--and any
circumstances other than murder which might account for the injury."

"The choice of suitable implements is not very great," I observed.

"It is very limited, and most of them, such as a plasterer's pick or a
geological hammer, are associated with certain definite occupations. You
have a notebook?"

I had, and, accepting the hint, I produced it and pursued my further
reflections in silence, while my companion, with his notebook also on
his knee, gazed steadily out of the window. And thus he remained,
wrapped in thought, jotting down an entry now and again in his book,
until the train slowed down at Halbury Junction, where we had to change
on to a branch line.

As we stepped out, I noticed a well-dressed man hurrying up the platform
from the rear and eagerly scanning the faces of the few passengers who
had alighted. Soon he espied us, and, approaching quickly, asked, as he
looked from one of us to the other:

"Dr. Thorndyke?"

"Yes," replied my colleague, adding: "And you, I presume, are Mr. Edward
Stopford?"

The solicitor bowed. "This is a dreadful affair," he said, in an
agitated manner. "I see you have the paper. A most shocking affair. I am
immensely relieved to find you here. Nearly missed the train, and feared
I should miss you."

"There appears to have been an arrest," Thorndyke began.

"Yes--my brother. Terrible business. Let us walk up the platform; our
train won't start for a quarter of an hour yet."

We deposited our joint Gladstone and Thorndyke's travelling-case in an
empty first-class compartment, and then, with the solicitor between us,
strolled up to the unfrequented end of the platform.

"My brother's position," said Mr. Stopford, "fills me with dismay--but
let me give you the facts in order, and you shall judge for yourself.
This poor creature who has been murdered so brutally was a Miss Edith
Grant. She was formerly an artist's model, and as such was a good deal
employed by my brother, who is a painter--Harold Stopford, you know,
A.R.A. now--"

"I know his work very well, and charming work it is."

"I think so, too. Well, in those days he was quite a youngster--about
twenty--and he became very intimate with Miss Grant, in quite an
innocent way, though not very discreet; but she was a nice respectable
girl, as most English models are, and no one thought any harm. However,
a good many letter