I clutched dizzily at the mantelpiece. It was all so utterly,
incredibly horrible. How had Deeping met his death? The windows
both were latched and the door had been locked from within!

"You searched for the murderer, of course?" asked Bristol.

"You can see, sir," replied the officer, "that there isn't a spot
in the room where a man could hide! And there was nobody
in here when we forced the door!"

"Why!" cried my companion suddenly. "The Professor has a chisel
in his hand!"

"Yes. I think he must have been trying to prise open that box
yonder when he was attacked."

Bristol and I looked, together, at an oblong box which lay upon
the floor near the murdered man. It was a kind of small
packing case, addressed to Professor Deeping, and evidently had
not been opened.

"When did this arrive?" asked Bristol. Lester, the Professor's
man, who had entered the room, replied shakily--

"It came by carrier, sir, just before I went out."

"Was he expecting it?"

"I don't think so."