understand, though," he added, after a moment. "Where did that blood
come from?" and he pointed to the dark spots on the collar of the
white robe.

Hinman looked up with a little exclamation.

"I forgot," he said. "Did you find the handkerchief? No, I see you
didn't," and he pointed to where it lay on the floor. "I noticed it
when I first looked at the body."

Without a word, Goldberger bent and picked up the blood-stained
handkerchief. Then he and Simmonds examined it minutely. Finally the
coroner looked at Godfrey, and his eyes were very bright.

"There can be only one inference," he said. "The dead man is not
bleeding--the cord did not cut the flesh. The blood, then, must have
come from the murderer. He must have been injured in some
way--bleeding profusely. Look at this handkerchief--it is fairly
soaked."

I am sure that, at that instant, the same thought was in Godfrey's
mind which flashed through mine, for our eyes met, and there was a
shadow in his which I knew my own reflected. Then I glanced at Hinman.
He was looking at the handkerchief thoughtfully, his lips tightly
closed. I could guess what he was thinking, but he said nothing.

Goldberger laid the handkerchief on the table, at last, and turned
back to the body. He bent close above it, examining the blood spots,
and when he stood erect again there was in his face a strange
excitement.