the disjointed words which the prostrate man had gasped with his dying breath. To the pathologist it was quite clear first that Jerome Jerrold believed he had been shot; secondly that no second person could have entered the room, and thirdly that the theory of assassination might be at once dismissed. "I think that poor Jerrold has died a natural death--sudden and painful, for if he had been shot some wound would most certainly show," Sir Houston remarked. "There will have to be an inquest, won't there?" asked Sainsbury. "Of course. And, Thomasson, you had better ring up the police at once and inform them of the facts," urged Sir Houston, who, turning again to Sainsbury, added: "At the post-mortem we shall, of course, quickly establish the cause of death." Again he bent, and with his forefinger drew down the dead man's nether lip. "Curious," he remarked, as though speaking to himself, as he gazed into the white, distorted face. "By the symptoms I would certainly have suspected poisoning. Surely he can't have committed suicide!" And he glanced eagerly around the room, seeking to discover any bottle, glass, or cup that could have held a fatal draught. "I don't see anything which might lead us to such a conclusion, Sir Houston," answered Sainsbury. "But he may have swallowed it in tablet form," the other suggested. "Ah! yes. I never thought of that!" "His dying words were hardly the gasping remarks of a suicide." "Unless he wished to conceal the fact that he had taken his own life?" remarked Sainsbury. "If he committed suicide, then he will probably have left some message behind him. They generally do," Sir Houston said; whereupon both men crossed to the writing-table, which, neat and tidy, betrayed the well-ordered life its owner had led. An electric lamp with a shade of pale green silk was burning, and showed that the big padded writing-chair had recently been occupied. Though nothing lay upon the blotting pad, there were, in the rack, three letters the man now dead had written and stamped for post.
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