THE INVESTIGATIONS OF JOHN PYM.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5014, 28 July 1894, Page 2

THE INVESTIGATIONS OF JOHN PYM.

THE CASE OF MUJ.VOS V SAGRA. (Tlie Woman at Home.) At the time of which I, Nod Venable«, write, my friend John Pym gave little promise of becoming known to the world at large. I used to think him the most irritating man of my acquaintance, though he was for years my dearest friend. There was hardly a walk of life m which he might not have achieved success, and he did practically nothing. He has the largest and most varied intellectual armoury of any man I know, but he spent all his time in furbishing his weapons and adding new ones with no apparent object. He studied by turns anatomy, medicine, chemistry, natural history, geology, botany, language^ and literatures ; amassing learning at a frightful rate, and doing nothing with it all. lam a man of action, and it has been the business of my life to lay .before the public, piping hot, every new thing that I have learned and seen. To a man of my habits and my way of thinking, there was something scarcely tolerable in the spectacle of this astonishing savant grubbing and grinding among his books for ever, and leaving all the wide fields of bia learning sterile and unused. When in the course of some one of our talks he would pour out on me some stream of hard-won fact and brilliant theory, I used to ask him impatiently what was the good of all his erudition whilst.it lay unused. He used to laugh and confess to an insatiable curiosity. Then he would announce a new study — had a six months' craze for hydraulics, or astronomy, or microscopy. It wa3 enough for him that he had discovered himself to be ignorant anywhere. He would not rest until he had patched that hole in his armour. He came out of his books at last in a sufficiently astonishing manner. I . Pym and I were one night seated in his rooms, when our old friend Dr Macquarrie came in and joined in our talk. "Well," said the doctor, "what's the latest addition to that palatial lumber-room of useless knowledge?" Macquarrie was quite of my way of thinking about Pym's capacities, and the pity of his brilliant, useless life. . Old Pym, whr is an ugly man, with a nose like a crag and a brow like a cliff, has the sweetest smile I ever knew. . It fairly transforms his face. He turned laughingly at the question. "I'm invading your own special ground, Mac,' ' he answered. " I've turned toxicologist.' ' "Have you, indeed?" said the doctor. "Well since that's your momentary line, Pym, I wish you'd do a little thing for me." "Indeed!" said Pym, idly, "and what may that be?" " I've a case just now," returned Macquarrie, "that worries the life out of me, of^thereabouts. To tell ye the plain truth, I'm nine-tenths convinced of foul play in it. I'll not tell ye the names, but here are the circumstances. There's a lady patient o' mine, by birth a Spaniard. She's a charming woman, verging on tho sixties. She has charge of a fine little fellow of about three years of age, a nephew of hers, son of a dead sister five and twenty years younger than herself. Now this child has suffered from symptoms that clean bother me. That he's suffering from some kind of irritant poison I haven't any manner o' doubt in the world, but what it is and how it was administered I'm completely at a loss to guess. The symptoms are extraordinarily contradictory. There are signs of poisoning by strychnia, which have looked at moments unmistakable. Then the child has suffered from a maddening irritation of the skin, from hot sweats and cold sweats, tremblings, and a remarkable imitation of St Titus' s dance. The latest symptom is the breaking out of a festering wound on the little wretch's foot. Three days ago there wae no sign of that to my oertain knowledge." I asked Macquarrie what made him suspicious of foul play. "A year ago," he, answered, "tho child's infant brother died with a partial manifestation of the same symptoms. At^that time a certain person was staying in the house. He is staying there now, or was until yesterday. He's a Spanish Brazilian, this fellow, and he's the uncle of my little sufferer. The child's an orphan, and is now sole heir to a very considerable estate. Should he die, this saffron-coloured scoundrel inherits in his stead." " Does the child's aunt and guardian suspect this man ? " asked Pym. "That I know she does right well," the doctor answered. "And there's a part of the mystery ! The fellow's so dreaded since his latest visit, and what we take for its result, that he has not been allowed a second's intercourse with the child. He has had no opportunity, so far as we can make out, of administering anything of a deleterious nature. There's nothing but suspicion in the former case, and nothing but suspicion in this. The fact is that this child is sick, and sick almost unto death of the very symptoms which killed his infant brother a year back when this man was in the house, and the mystery is, that the man has never been allowed near the victim. He has full motive for crime, for he is a gambler and hard-up, and if the child died he would immediately be wealthy." "It's a queer business," said Pym, He rose up to knock the ashes from his pipe, and stood thoughtfully whibt he refilled and relit it. " The motive's clear enough," he said after a pause, " but the suspicion seems to rest on what may be a pure coincidence." " The motive and coincidence together," cried Macquarrie. "Just so," said Pym, in a dull inward way, "just so." He sat, nursing Ms foob' after a way he had, and staring into the fire, and pulling mechanically at his pipe. He roused himself to ask a single question. " Is the child out of danger ?" "I'm half disposed to hope so," Macquarrie answered. " I shall know better to-morrow." " This fellow's away, is he ?" Pym asked; and then in answer to the doctor's puzzled look, " This Spanish Brazilian fellow. He's away ?" " Yes," the doctor answered. " He's away. He has some mercantile business in Southampton which he says will keep him a day or two; When the rascal left the child was supposed to. be in extremis. Whether he's guilty or no, he'll be sorry to come back and find him well again, I know, though he waß mightily moved with concern for the puir thing's welfare when he went away." " You speak of the child's guardian as being a charming woman," said Pym. "Why does a charming woman admit into her house a man whom she conceives to be capable of murder ?" "That's the pity of it," cried Macquarrie. "The house is not hers, but his. He is" joint guardian with her, and she lives on his sufferance. He's away in the Brazils when he's at home, and this is his third visit to London for years past." No more was said on this topic at the time, but when at a late hour Macquarrie rose to leave us, Pym asked him, with some little urgency, I fancied, to call on the following evening. I took my leave shortly afterwards and went upstairs tc bed. . Pym and I were old chamber chums, but when he had taken to making all manner of horrible stenches with chemicals some four of five years before, I had left him to hia devices, and had rented the suite of rooms over him. I saw nothing of him next day, except for t ■ chance glimpse of his face I caught as he passec ' me in a hansom in the neighbourhood of th< ; Zoological Gardens. But at night, as I was ' sitting at work at my desk, I heard a dull batter 1 ing just under my feet, and recognising a signal [ long in use between us, I descended to Pym's - chambers. [ " Here he is," said Pjm, as I entered. " Now ' Mac, if I wanted to go tiger-shooting, or if ] , ever got into a tight and desperate corner, this [ same old Ned Yenables is the man I should like ( to have with me. He's as tough as wire, he's ai l cool as a cucumber, he's as keen as a terrier, anc ; there's nothing on the earth, or in the waten under it, that knows how to frighten him." I feel a certain sense of immodesty in setting . down this rhodomontade, and I feel that all ths j more keenly because I know how far it is fron . being true. I have been frightened pretty oftei . in my. time, and the only merit I claim in thai ) I regard is that I have never let anybody see it I I never knew but one man who really lovec

'■ danger. I loathe it, but I have a reputation to i c nsider. " Now, Mac," Pyni continued, "if I can peisuacle you to introduce me to this lady, you know > enough of me by tbi3 tim<? to be sine that you confidence in me will be utterly respected. I dcm't gay I'm right, but I do any I may be. The tbeoiy's so wild that I won't expose myself to any man's laughter by proclaimiug it, until I've tried it." I "Well," said Macquarrie, "if a a serious { matter, but with you and Yenables here I can trust it. Ido suspect the Brazilian rascal, and I do believe that if he comes back again he may wake another trial. If you think you can guess what fiend's tricks he works by, I'll give you all the authority I've got— and it isn't much — to try. The lady's name is Murios,. and sbe'« in the Albert Road. Regent's Park. The Brazilian rascal's name is Muelvos y Sagra. Prefix Josef, j and ye have'm in full. The child's greatly better, but I promised to take another luifc atm to-night, and if ye're agreeable I'll introduce you to the lady atxmce." j •''. "What is this all about ?" I asked. "And . why am I wnnted?" ' ' "Ned, old fellow," said Pym, hying both hands upon my shoulders, "do this one thing for me." i "My dear Jack," I answered, "if you put it in that way I'll do anything." | So I went off in contented ignorance, i "Whatever Pym's game was, it was 'blind man's j buff to me. We boarded a four-wheeler, and i were driven to the street Macquarrie had named. Pym and I were left in the vehicle whilst the doctor entered a decent-looking, retired little hou9e, cosy, and. with a feel of home about it, even when looked at from outside. I spoke once to Pym, but he returned no answer. Presently a servant came out and requested us to enter. Wo obeyed, and Maequarrie introduced U8 to a stately, sad-mannered lady, who had once j been beautiful and was still venerably sweet, with her snow-while bands of hair, and her delicate ■ brunette complexion, her fine arched eye-brows . and large, short-sighted brown eyes. This was ' the Sefiora Murios. She received us in musical ', Spanish speech, expressing a hope that she was j understood, and regretting that she had no : English. Pym easily reassured her on that point, and for my own part I had had twelve moßths of that wretched, inactive 1 Carlist war, and could get on well enough. I have Ecraped acquaintance ■with two or threo languages in.that way. I I need not detail the conversation, but it came to this t— Pym saw a possible solution to the ! mystery of the child's illness. • He earnestly begged the lady's confidence, and he asked to be allowed to seethe rooms respectively occupied by j SeSor Muelvos y Sagra and the child. The lady I for her part assented, and at that moment there came a noisy summons at the street door. "That is Jo9ef," said Seiiora Murios, rising to ! her feet, and clasping her hands with a look of abject terror. " What shall Ido ? What shall I say?" I "These gentlemen are friends of yours." said : Macquarrie, " and known to you through me. There is no cause for alarm, believe me." • The Senora was right in her recognition of Sefior Josef's knock. I don't think I should have liked the swarthy man, even if I had not come prepared to dislike and suspect him, and yet he was not altogether an ill-looking fellow. He was scrupulously dressed, though he had just come off a journey, and he wore 1 a gold-rimmed pince-nez, perched delicately on the bridge of his thin nose. His fine arched eyebrows were black as jet, but his close-cropped hair and his dandy little moustache and imperial 1 were almost white. There was a spurious look of 1 good breeding about the man, to which his tall and slender figure added some affect. His eyes 1 were a good deal too close together for my liking, ■ and if ever I saw pitiless and greedy " Self" ' written on a human face I saw it on his, as be ; stood bowing from right to left in the act of ! drawing off his gloves from his lean, long-fingered 1 . hands. It was easy to see that whatever else he ; was, the fellow was no fool. He had a fine though, narrow dome of head, and his whole face was expressive of intelligence— a malignant intelligence ' , —a snake's deified. ■ i Macquarrie accepted the situation created by > this gentleman's arrival with a suave coolness ■ which excited my admiration. " You will be delighted, sir, to learn that your little charge is out of danger." "Delighted," said Sefior Josef, smiling and bowing, but I saw him bite his underlip. " That is indeed good news." "These gentlemen," pursued Macquarrie, "are Englishmen of eminence, whom I hare 1 taken the liberty to introduce to the Senora 1 Murio3. They have the advantage of speaking ■ Spanish, which is not a common pleasure among > my countrymen." ' ; The Sefior bowed and shopk hands with both of us. He was enchanted to make our acquaintance. He regretted infinitely that it was absolutely ' necessary that he should tear himself away. He had brought home his baggage, but he had to keep an appointment at a little distance only. • He bade us good-night with sorrow, and trusted ' that he would have the pleasure of seeing us again. And so he bowed himself out, smiling and protesting, and all the while, as was to be eeen plainly enough, wondering who we two Strangers i were, and casting suspicious guesses here and there as to the meaning of our presence. We stood in silence when he had left us, and > heard the sharp click of his heels upon the pavement as he walked away. i ! "Oh!" whispered Senora Murios, in a I frightened voice, to Pym, "if he knew why you , were liere, sir, he would kill me. He is not a I man to be watched or spied upon." Pym begged to see the rooms at once, and fora I second time she assented. But she led the way tremulously, and at Pym's request I followed. 1 Our frightened guide led us, to begin with, to a 1 bedroom on the firat floor. It was a chamber of the most ordinary type, plainly and even rather meagrely furnished. The only thing in any ! degree unusual about, it was that in place of the common, plaster and wall-paper it was lined with t plain 9tained deal. The ceiling was of the same > construction, a fact I might not have noticed if I \ had not observed that Pym scrutinised it with ■ the closest attention. . j 1 " The child's bed stood here ?" he asked after a | L time. . t " Yes," the lady answered. " The child's bed • stood there. Since his seizure it has been taken • to my own room." " Tbank you," said Pym, gravely. " There is v ' nothing further to look for here." Our guide moved towards the door, but stopped L with a face of terror at the noise of cab wheels in • the street outside. The sound went by, and she 1 led the way again. j "This," she said, opening a door on the • next landing, "is the bedroom of the child's 6 uncle." We entered after her, and I looked about me I again, discerning nothing uncommon in the aspect or arrangement of the room. The bed t was old-fashioned and heavy, and between its foot , and the projecting bulk of a heavy mahogany [ wardrooe there was but just sufficient space to c allow of the wardrobe door being opened. Pym >. went straight to this antique piece of furniture and looked into its shadowed reeeßS. It seemed i at first sight to lie quite empty. c " The candle madame, if you please," aaii Pym. 8 He took the light and knelt upon the floor, with • his head and shoulders projected in the wardrobe. By-and-by an odd little gasp escaped him, and he a withdrew his head. His face at that instant was fully illumined, and I saw that he was ghastly 6 pale, and that his eyes were blazing with some in--3 ward fire. He rose from his knees, and reaching • his left hand towards me, held out a small clay ■' flower-not BOtnewhat larger than a common 3 tumbler. I did not understand his agitation or guess at the meaning of his discovery, but there '> was no mistaking the fact that he was at once £ shaken and triumphant. At a gesture from 3 him I took the candle in my unoccupied hand, c and he drew from the flower-pot a tangle of 9 tlnn whip-cord, at the end of which was fastened d a little arrangement in rusted wire. Pym 8 examined this with a prolonged intentness, which gave me time to scrutinise it also. It g was made of two pieces of wire, each perhaps six a inches in length. Each piece was doubled in the a centre. The centre ends then ran together for a an inch, when they diverged, and each of the ,t further ends formed a hook, 'lhe two pieces t. were fastened together firmly at the. bend by a d s mailer piece of wire, which had been bound

about them by tho aid of a pair of pliers. Below ] this yens a littln wire circle, which couli 1,-.? ] used to bring the four cv yes closer to each other. "That will i?o," said Pjm at last, replacing the *orthlees-lonking tangle pretty much as be had found is. A little rough sand fell from the flow6r-p»tas he did this, and fHilinc on his k- ees, he scrupulously removed it from tbe carpet grain by grain. Then he replaced the flower-pot in the wardrobe, and rising to his feet, closed the door, and handed the candlestick to SeSora Murios in silence. "What is it?" she asked, whisperingly, with an added terror in her eyes. " You have found something?" "Everything, I think," said Pym. "I shall have more to say downstairs." She looked at him wonderingly, but he stood without regarding her, bis face still pale, his clean-shaven lips compressed in a hard, straight line, and his eyeß veritably blazing. I, who had known him bo closely for so many years, had no hint of a doubt about him ia my mind, wholly in the dark as I was. He was always a daring theorist, buthe treated theory as theory, and was, like all fine thinkers, slow to proclaim certainty. i When we reached the lower room, Macquarrie started and stared at him, his face was so transfigured. Seuora Murios stood, with the unextinguished candle in her hand, waiting with a piteous look of bewilderment and fear. Pym planted himself squarely on the hearthrug, facing j i us all. j " I have little doubt/ madame," he said, in the j slow' and precise way in which a man speaks a language which is not often on his tongue, "that • Josef Muelvos y Sagra is once a murderer in fact | and twice a murderer in intent. I say this with a complete sense of the gravity of the statement. I believe myself to understand tbe diabolical means by which he has worked, and I trust to take him Ted-handed in a last attempt ' But to succeed, I must have nothing less than \ your full trust and confidence." I ': She looked from Pym to Macquarrie from . Macquarrie to me, and back again to Pym. j "You are an English gentleman," she said, : after a painfully undecided pause. "Dr Macquarrie is almost my only English friend. He tella me you are all-accomplished, and good and upright. I will take his word." " Thank you," said Pym. "Tell me,"he continued, etill speaking in Spanish, hilt addressing himself to Macquarrie, " when do you think i the child might be s'afeiy trusted to sleep in his o wn room again alone?" . " Impossible to say," the doctor answered. "We must wait then," said Pym. "But when that time comes, Seiiora Murios, I shall ask you to trust me. In the meantime, I should advise the child's removal from this house at the earliest safe hour. Other means than those I suspect may be employed against him." " What means do you suspect ? " she asked, panting in her speech. " Pardon me if I even seem to add to your suspense," said Pym, gravely. "I have reason for it, I have only to ask you for one promise. When . the time arrives, will you permit this gentleman and myself, to watch over your charge for that one night? We shall ask to have the door locked and to be in darkness." She gazed at us all three in turn with her pathetic, troubled, and short-sighted look, but she finally assented by a mere inclination of the head. "The next matter is entirely at your discretion, but I should be happier to know that for that one night you would be willing to absent yourself from the house." Old Pym's ugly face was handsome with sincerity and earnestness. His sturdy figure and his manly, quiet voice spoke honesty. The Seiiora held out her hand to him with a sudden impulse. " I trust you," ate said. " I trust you altogether." We left upon this understanding, and Pym kept his secret to himself. The days went by, and I had from him br from the doctor occasional new* of* the child. He was recovering fast, but was suffering from a form of eczema, hearing which Pym merely nodded with "Just so, just so." The Spanish Brazilian was still in London, unexpectedly detained, he said, by the prolongation of certain business negotiations. A full month went by before I found myself called upon. Jt'ym came into my rooms at about the end of that time. He was very grave and stern, and I guessed the hour was near. " That business with our exotic friend comes off to-night," he said. "Shall you be ready?" I was keen-set with curiosity and answered " Yes " at once. "All right,' ' eaid Pjm. " Come down to me at eight o'clock." He went away without another word, and left me on tho tenter-hooks, feeling as if a big battle were announced for next morning. I ought to know that sensation. , Eight o'clock came, and down I went to Pym's rooms. He was already dreased for out of doors, and when I entered he was toyilig with a small, Bhort-Jbandled butterfly net. He had fixed a string arrangement by which be could close the mouth of the net at a jerk, and he was testing this with an intentness which Beemed absurdly trivial under the circumstances. But when be had fairly satisfied himself .as to its smooth working, he folded it up and stowoi it away under the light dust coat he wore. I concluded that he had a use for it, and forbore to question him. : He armed himself further with a dark lantern, and then announced bis readiness to start. Wo found a hansom waiting, and the driver, evidently instructed; beforehand, set off at a brisk pace. It was a clouded night, and cold, with a touch of wet mist in the air. The hansom set us down at a public-house, and Pym led the way in. He walked through the bar and into a i snuggery behind it. j "We may have to wait here for a little while," :he said. We eat silent and alone for perhaps half an hour, and then the potman came in with a note. Pym read it and put it in his pocket. " The coaßt is clear," he said calmly. "We can go now. v The mist had thickened to a drizzle, and the night bad grown bleak and windy, but we were within five minutes' distance of the house we sought. When we reached it, we found the street door already open and the Senora awaiting -us. She was so terribly agitated that she could j scarcely speak, but she made us understand that | she was supposed to be absent from the house, and had made arrangements to spend the night; away from it. Sefior Muelvos y Sagra had made a pretence of being, out of town, buthe had returned that evening,^ bringing with him a large black despatch box, which he had himself carried I to his own room. j "That will do," said Pym. "You will act most, wisely by showing us to the child's room ! at. once, and leaving the house immediately. Your servants know that you are here ? " " I have but one, " the unhappy lady answered, "but I could trust her with my soul." A minute later we were in the lower bedroom, in the dark. ' Tyro chairs had been placed for us near the window. Pym turned the key in the lock, and then withdrew it. We heard the opening and closing of the street door, and a retreating step in the passage . below. The solitary _ domestic had retired. Pym had fired the wick of his dark lantern . before leaving the hall, and he now set it on the floor at his feet. I could see just a i dim glow-worm sort of light shining in the i ventilator at the top, but that was all. We sat as still as a pair of ghosts, and could hear ■ each other's breathing and the ticking of our own : and each other's watches. The time went • on with incredible slowness, but my eyes had i grown accustomed to the darkness, which was 1 faintly illuminated by the street lamps outside, ) and I could make out everything in the chamber > in a dim and shadowy way. Cabs went by with l roar and clatter, footsteps passed the house, and , voices, and the time dragged along. A clock at P some distance struck the quarters with an interl minable stretch betwixt each and each. i It was near midnight when a rapid but light , footstep came along the street, and paused below. b The rattle of a latch-key sounded in the lock, c faintly, and the door was stealthily opened and as 3 stealthily closed. Then a step came oreaking up f the stair, and paused outside our room. A 5 cautious hand tried tbe door. We heard the s sputter of a match, and a light gleamed through * the keyhole. • ■■ ■.■ ' •■ 1 Then the footsteps went murderously stealing

[ ' ' ' upstn'r*. r.nd by-and-by we Heard them creaking r.vcili. ;i i. 1 ;>ut my heart into my ears and listened. There wns a faint noiso of hollow iron ; then a snap as of a key in a lock, then a pause, then footsteps again, then the j creak of a floor, an-l then a faint rasp j upon *ho floor above, as if one dry sub*tano£ sli'l upon another. Pym'sband touched mine, and it was like firo. I turned silently to look at him, and in the dimness saw him beckon upwards. . I looked, and there, right above the child's cot, was a square of faint light, and whilst I was ■wondering what this might mean, something dropped through it and came slowly down. The thing was living. It had a body shaped like j Jtwo eggs, a lesser and a larger, and a number of i limbs that writhed at the air as if they sought to j grasp something. Then I knew the meaning of j Pym'a butterfly net. He rose without a sound, j and waited for the hideous thing to descend with I the net open below it. It came down- writhing into the waiting net, there was a faint clicking noiso. and Pym with a loud voice cried: "The lantern! Quick!! have it." Before I could snatch the lantern from the' floor, the ceiling was shaken as if by a heavy fell. i "Now," said Pym, "let us have a look at you." I flashed the lantern, and there on the floor, struggling in the butterfly net, was a gigantic spider, covered with coarse, reddish gray hair. " Take this," said Pym thrusting something into my hand. I felt at once that it was a I revolver. "If that scoundrel tries to get downi stairs, stop him." ' i j I rushed for the door, forgetting in my excitement that it was locked, and tugged at it until Pym followed with the key. The child was awake, and screamed in an agony of terror. Pym threw open the window, and blew a policeman's whistle again and again, I stood guarding the stair. Feet came limning, and a voice called out to know what was the matter. "Attempted murder!' 1 Pym's voice answered. "Wait there till I let you in." I Pour of us went upstairs, two policemen lantern in hand, and we two spectators of that awful crime. I tried the door, and found it locked. I called, but no answer came. I made a rush and burst it open with one flatfooted thrust, and at that instant a shot sounded. When we entered, we found that Josef : Muelvos y Sagra had gone to his account. On the bed stood a large despatch box, which opened both at the lid and at the front. It had a false bottom, on wliich was distributed, to the depth of .five or six inches, a . coarse gray sand, which had not long ago been sprinkled with water. Below tha false bottom burned a spirit lamp. In one corner of the sanded space lay a flower-pot of the size and shape I knew already. Witfrin it was the dead and shrunken body of a mouse. By this time the quaking domestic wa3 doing her beat to soothe the frightened child. Pym brought up his captive, and delivered a j brief lecture to the bewildered officers. "This, gentlemen, is the largest and most formidable of the Mygalidae. It is commonly known as the great South American Hairy Spider. It is exceedingly fierce and venomous, though its powers of offence have been greatly exaggerated by the ignorant. Its bite has often been reported as fatal to adults, but I have met with no authentic record. It has been frequently known to be fatal to young children. When irritated, as you observe it is at present by the pressure of this contrivance of wire, it becomes additionally dangerous. It demands a high temperature, and an air not tod devoid of moisture. I shall ask you to observe, gentlemen, that this wardrobe bas no bottom, and that a hole has been cut through the floor of this apartment. Kemark further, that the bed of the child whose life was attempted lies directly below the orifice." | He detached the handle of the net and dropped i the dreadful thing, net and all, into the despatch box, blew out the spirit lamp, end locked up the struggling insect. We left one officer to guard the body of the suicide-murderer, and we accompanied the other to the local police office, where Pym told his story. When at the close of this wild night we found ourselves at home again, I gave a loose rein to my • astonishment. "Well," said Pym simply, "I know no other poison which could produce all the effects that Mac detailed. Then came in. that symptom of maddening irritation of the skin. Those short reddish grey hairs come off at a touch and produce precisely that effect. It is that fact which has i led to the superstitious belief that mere contact with this insect is fatal, Then the villain him* self came from Bmil, which is the home of this particular beast. I was less puzzled to diagnose the case than to work out the means by which the j crime might be committed." • And there is the unvarnished history of John Pym's first criminal investigation.