erly professional-looking man whom he introduced as Dr. Orwin.

When James Allerdyke's dead body had been lifted on to the bed, and the
two medical men had begun a whispered conversation beside it, Allerdyke
drew the hotel manager aside to a corner of the room.

"Did you see anything of my cousin when he arrived last night?" he asked.

"Not when he arrived--no," replied the manager. "But later--yes. I had
some slight conversation with him after he had taken supper. It was
nothing much--he merely wished to know if there was always a night-porter
on duty. He said he expected a friend, who might turn up at any hour of
the night, and he wanted to leave a card for him. That would be you, I
suppose, sir?"

"Just so," replied Allerdyke. "Now, how did he seem at that time? And
what time was that?"

"Ten o'clock," said the manager. "Seem? Well, sir, he seemed to be in the
very best of health and spirits! I was astonished to hear that he was
dead. I never saw a man look more like living. He was--"

The elderly doctor came away from the bed approaching Allerdyke.

"After hearing what Dr. Lydenberg tells me, and examining the body--a
mere perfunctory examination as yet, you know--I have little doubt that
this gentleman died of what is commonly called heart failure," he said.
"There will have to be an inquest, of course, and it may be advisable to
make a post-mortem examination. You are a relative?"

"Cousin," replied Allerdyke. He hesitated a moment, and then spoke
bluntly. "You don't think it's been a case of poisoning, do you?" he said.

Dr. Orwin pursed his lips and regarded his questioner narrowly.

"Self-administered, do you mean?" he asked.

"Administered any way," answered Allerdyke. "Self or otherwise." He
squared his shoulders and spoke determinedly. "I don't understand about
this heart-failure notion," he went on. "I never heard him complain of
his heart. He was a strong, active man--hearty and full of go. I want to
know--everything."

"There should certainly be an autopsy," murmured Dr. Orwin. He turned and
looked at his temporary colleague, who nodded as if in assent. Then he
turned back to Allerdyke. "If you'll leave us for a while, we will just
make a further examination--then we'll speak to you later."

Allerdyke signified his assent with a curt nod of the head. Accompanied
by the manager and Gaffney he left the room, and with him he carried the
small hand-bag in which he had placed the dead man's person