"Oh, some fellow or other--Westcott or Westmacott I think his name was--I forget. Insisted on viewing the body. Wanted his money's worth I suppose. He was sorry he did though." This was more and more interesting. I asked what sort of a man this Westmacott was. "The sort of fellow who would be down in the cellar before his wife and children when there was an air-raid on, I should say," Billy replied. "Awful nuisance of a man. But he got his all right. He'll probably be taking solid food again this day week." "Then you did see the body?" "Had to, if only to keep this fellow quiet. He stuck out right to the finish too, but we got our dozen without him. Prima facie case, of course. Death by burning, and what wasn't that was general smash-up." "Was a doctor called?" "The divisional surgeon was there, but he quite agreed, and I saw to the rest in my capacity as foreman. There was only one man who wasn't satisfied, and he was busy----" Billy twinkled wickedly. You may imagine how I was beginning to relish all this. The Chelsea Arts with its rags about haunted houses and White Ladies who dropped hairpins was well enough in its way, but its humor could not compare for a moment with the spectacle of a rising King's Counsel who practically forced himself on to a jury-panel, got himself made foreman, and then burked inquiry by shutting up the only juryman who had as much as a suspicion of the dangerous truth--and all this in the whitest innocence and purest good faith! I could have laughed aloud. Had he been a willing instrument in the affair he could not have done his work more efficiently and completely. "Is the poor fellow buried yet?" I asked in a suppressed voice. "Yesterday," said Billy. "And he can't be dug up again?" Mackwith gave me a sharp look. "What do you mean?" he asked quickly. "Dug. Past participle of the verb to dig. I mean is he buried once for all?" "Short of an Exhumation Order from the Home Secretary he is. I don't understand you." "And that's rather difficult to get, isn't it?" I continued. "I should say the North Pole was comparatively easy," Billy replied. At this point my laughter really became too much for me. I remember hoping that it didn't seem too rude, but I couldn't help it. Billy let me finish, and then asked quietly, even gravely, "Now if you're feeling better, will you please explain?"