"I see."

"While one of us is on the way to America, the other must gradually cash these notes at home. The numbers cannot be stopped for a week or two."[Pg 22]

[Pg 22]

"Yes. But—but the body?"

"Must be taken aboard the boat."

"Good God!"

"No help for it, Charley. I had better be the passenger; you look after the money. I have more nerve for the work. I shall take the body in two portmanteaus, and manage to drop them overboard en route."

"In two portmanteaus?"

"Yes. My old days at the hospital operating table will come back to me. Yes. Don't look so scared; there's no help for it—just lock the door after me while I go in for my case of instruments."

The dentist did so, and stood there waiting his brother's return. Waited with bulging eyes and open mouth.

His training had not been that of the hospital. He had not the coolness in handling the limbs of his fellow-men which practice had given the surgeon.

The piano organ had struck into a religious tune now, and was discharging "Abide With Me." The dentist heard that. Heard it and shivered. The eventide was falling fast.[Pg 23]

[Pg 23]

CHAPTER III

ON BOARD THE AMERICAN LINER

Arthur returned with his case of knives. He saw his brother would be worse than useless about him in the task he had in hand.

Personally, he had no more compunction about dismembering his fellow-men than a butcher had in disjointing a calf—it was his business.

"Drink this, Charley"—he had poured out some brandy and handed it to his brother. "And now put on your hat and go out; take a cab down to Goffs. Buy two large portmanteaus—second hand—not less than a yard long. Put them on a cab, and come back here with them. Rap 

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