sure. That's a joke. But that ain't the tip I want to give you. This is another case of diamond rings."
"You mean that there were diamond rings left on the hand when the body was placed in the coffin?"
"One solitaire; a jim dandy. And likewise a ruby, set deep like a carbuncle, I think they call them other red stones. Then on the little finger of the other hand there was a solid gold ring, with a flat top to it, and a letter 'Q' in it, made of little diamonds. Them rings never reached the Morgue."
"But even so, that does not prove that they were taken by the man who removed the corpse from the coffin. They might have been taken by those who found the body in the river."
"Nit. Haven't you read the papers? Boys found it, but they called in the police to get it out of the water. Since then the police has been in charge. Now I ain't got none too good an opinion of the police myself, but they don't rob the dead. They squeeze the livin', all right, but not the dead. Put that down. You can believe, if you like, that Jerry carted that body off to the river and dumped it in, diamond rings and all. But as I said before, you don't know Jerry. No, sir, if I was you, I'd find them rings, and find out how they got there. And maybe I can help you there, too, – that is, if you'll make it worth my while."
Mr. Barnes understood the hint and responded promptly:
"Here is a five-dollar bill," said he. "And if you really tell me anything that aids me in finding the rings, I will give you ten more."
"That's the talk," said Randal, taking the money. "Well, it's this way. You'll find that crooks, like other fly birds, has regular haunts. Now I happen to know that Jerry spouted his watch, a silver affair, but a good timer, once, and I take it he'd carry the rings where he's known, 'specially as I'm pretty sure the pawnbroker ain't over inquisitive about where folks gets the things they borrow on. If I was you, I'd try the shop on Eleventh Avenue by Fiftieth Street. It don't look like a rich place, but that kind don't want to attract too much attention."
"I will go there. I have no doubt that if he took the rings we will find them at that place. One thing more. How was Mr. Quadrant dressed when you placed him in the coffin? The newspapers make no mention of the clothing found on him."
"Oh, we didn't dress him. You see, he was to be burned, so we just shrouded him. Nothin' but plain white cloth. No buttons or nothin' that wouldn't burn up. The body at the Morgue was found without no clothes of any kind. I'd recognize that shroud, though, if it turns up. So there's another point for you."
"One thing more. You are evidently sure that Mr. Quadrant's body was taken out of the coffin. Do you think, then, that the coffin was empty when they took it to the crematory?"
"Why, sure! What could there be in it?"
"Suppose I were to tell you that another detective has examined the ashes and declares that he can prove that a human body was burned with that coffin. What would you say?"
"I'd say he was a liar. I'd say he was riggin' you to get you off the scent. No, sir! Don't you follow no such blind trail as that."
As Mr. Barnes left the undertaker's shop he observed Mr. Burrows coming towards him. It will be recalled that this young detective, now connected with the regular police force of the metropolis, had earlier in life been a protégé of Mr. Barnes. It was not difficult to guess from his being in this neighborhood that to him had been intrusted an investigation of the Quadrant mystery.
"Why, hello, Mr. Barnes," Mr. Burrows exclaimed, as he recognized his old friend. "What are you doing about here? Nosing into this Quadrant matter, I'll be bound."
"It is an attractive case," replied Mr. Barnes, in non-committal language. "Are you taking care of it for the office?"
"Yes; and the more I look into it the more complicated I find it. If you are doing any work on it, I wouldn't mind comparing notes."
"Very well, my boy," said Mr. Barnes, after a moment's thought, "I will confess that I have gone a little way into this. What have you done?"
"Well, in the first place, there was another examination by the doctors this morning. There isn't a shadow of doubt that the man at the Morgue was dead when thrown into the water. What's more, he died in his bed."
"Of what disease?"
"Cancer of the stomach. Put that down as fact number one. Fact number two is that the mark on his face is exactly the same, and from the same skin disease that old Quadrant had. Seems he also had a cancer, so I take it the identification is complete; especially as the family say it is their relative."
"Do they all agree to that?"
"Why, yes – that is, all except the youngest brother. He says he guesses it's his brother. Something about that man struck me as peculiar."
"Ah! Then you have seen him?"
"Yes. Don't care to talk to detectives. Wants the case hushed up; says there's nothing in it. Now I know there is something in it, and I am not sure he tells all he knows."
"Have you formed any definite conclusion as to the motive in this case?"
"The motive for what?"
"Why, for removing the body from the coffin."
"Well, I think the motive of the man who did it was money. What the motive of the man who hired him was, I can't prove yet."
"Oh! Then you think there are two in it?"
"Yes; I'm pretty sure of that. And I think I can put my finger on the man that made the actual transfer."
The two men were walking as they talked, Mr. Burrows having turned and joined the older detective. Mr. Barnes was surprised to find his friend advancing much the same theory as that held by Randal. He was more astonished, however, at the next reply elicited. He asked:
"Do you mind naming this man?"
"Not to you, if you keep it quiet till I'm ready to strike. I'm pretty sure that the party who carried the body away and put it in the river was the undertaker's assistant, a fellow who calls himself Randal."
Mr. Barnes started, but quickly regained his self-control. Then he said:
"Randal? Why, how could he have managed it?"
"Easily enough. It seems that the coffin was closed at five on the afternoon before the funeral, and the undertaker was told, in the presence of this fellow Randal, that it would not be opened again. Then the family went in to dine, and Berial and the other man, a fellow with an alias, but whose true name is Morgan, left the house, the other one, Randal, remaining behind to clear up. The undertaker's wagon was also there, and Randal drove it to the stables half an hour or so later."
Mr. Barnes noted here that there was a discrepancy between the facts as related by Mr. Burrows and as he himself had heard them. He had been told by Berial himself that it was "Jack" who had left the house with him, while Burrows evidently believed that it was Jack Randal who had been left behind. It was important, therefore, to learn whether there existed any other reason for suspecting Randal rather than Morgan.
"But though he may have had this opportunity," said Mr. Barnes, "you would hardly connect him with this matter without corroborative evidence."
"Oh, the case is not complete yet," said Mr. Burrows; "but I have had this fellow Randal watched for three days. We at the office knew about this identification before the newspapers got hold of it, be sure of that. Now one curious thing that he has done was to attempt to destroy some pawn-tickets."
"Pawn-tickets?"
"Yes. I was shadowing him myself last night, when I saw him tear up some paper and drop the pieces in the gutter at the side of the pavement. I let my man go on, for the sake of recovering those bits of paper. It took some perseverance and no little time, but I found them, and when put together, as I have said, they proved to be pawn-tickets."
"Have you looked at the property represented yet?"
"No. Would you like to go with me? We'll go together. I was about to make my first open appearance at the undertaker's shop to face this fellow, when you met me. But there's time enough for that. We'll go and look at the rings if you