seen how everything is otherwise explained. Now
supposing we have the murderer behind the curtains; that brings him
within six feet of where the wee table was standing. How did he get Sir
Reginald to come to the table? He made some kind of sound. What kind of
sound? Some imitation of an animal; probably of a cat. How did Sir
Reginald not cry out when he saw the man? Because he never did see the
man! How did he not see him?"

"Man was a ventriloquist and made a sound in the other direction,"
suggested Ned with extreme gravity.

"God, but that's possible, Mr. Cromarty! I hadna thought of that! Well,
it'll fit into the facts all right, you'll see. My theory was that
either the man threw something at the master and knocked him down that
way, or he was able to reach out and give him a bat on the heid without
moving from the curtains."

"He must have been an awkward customer."

"He was that! A great tall man with long arms. And what had he at the
end of them? Either a club such as savages use or something to throw
like a boomerang. And he could imitate animals, and as you say, he was
probably a ventriloquist. And he was that active and strong he could get
into the house through one of the windies, just like a great monkey. Now
what's the history of that man?"

"Pretty wild, I guess."

"Ah, but one can say more than that, sir. He was not an ordinary
Englishman or Scotchman. He was from the Colonies or America or one of
thae wild places! Is that not a fair deduction, sir?"

"It all points to that," said Ned, with a curious look.

"It points to that indeed, sir. Now where's he hidden himself? It should
not be difficult to find him with all that to go on."

"A tall active strong man who has lived in the Colonies or America; one
ought to get him. Has he only one eye, by any chance?"

The reasoner gazed petrified at his counsellor.

"God, but I've just described yoursel', sir!" he cried in an unhappy
voice.

"You're determined to hang one of us, Bisset."

For a moment Bisset seemed to find conversation difficult. Then he said
miserably:

"So it's no good, and all the alternatives just fa' to pieces."

The extreme dejection of his voice struck the other sharply.

"Alternatives to what?" he asked.

For a few seconds Bisset did not answer.

"What's on your mind, man?" demanded Cromarty.

"The reason, sir, I've got that badly off the rails with my deductions
is just that I _had_ to find some other theory than t