Harold Stopford. The verdict of "Death by
misadventure," promptly returned by the coroner's jury, had been
shortly followed by his release from custody, and he now sat with his
brother and me, listening with rapt attention to Thorndyke's analysis of
the case.
"So, you see," the latter concluded, "I had six possible theories of the
cause of death worked out before I reached Halbury, and it only remained
to select the one that fitted the facts. And when I had seen the
cattle-truck, had picked up that sequin, had heard the description of
the steers, and had seen the hat and the wounds, there was nothing left
to do but the filling in of details."
"And you never doubted my innocence?" asked Harold Stopford.
Thorndyke smiled at his quondam client.
"Not after I had seen your colour-box and your sketch," said he, "to say
nothing of the spike."
V
THE MOABITE CIPHER
A large and motley crowd lined the pavements of Oxford Street as
Thorndyke and I made our way leisurely eastward. Floral decorations and
drooping bunting announced one of those functions inaugurated from time
to time by a benevolent Government for the entertainment of fashionable
loungers and the relief of distressed pickpockets.
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