Ward scratched his head in hopeless perplexity and stared in mild anticipation mingled with a great deal of skepticism as Mr. Peck poured a small quantity of alcohol into the glass. Immediately, the liquid became pure and colorless and the surface indicated a distinctly oily film. "All of which bears me out," Mr. Peck said quietly, placing the glass on the table. "This man has been poisoned. Our next step is to determine whether the poison was self administered or otherwise. We...." "Just a minute, Mr. Peck," Ward interrupted, raising his hand. "There's a couple of things here I ought to explain." Ward floundered for a moment of hesitancy. "You see, it's this way. For about twenty years, now, about twelve people a year have died in this here town; one a month; that's the average." "Yes; yes?" Mr. Peck interjected interestedly. "But in the last month, eleven people have turned in their rain checks. This guy's the twelfth." "Which more or less upsets the law of averages." "That's just what I'm getting at. But what's worse, is that ten out of these twelve met with deaths from accidents of one kind or another." "Just how do you mean?" "Well, this guy, for instance," motioning toward the slab, "was bumped by a train. The rest met with other accidents ranging all the way from hit and run, down the line to falling off hay lofts and being kicked in the head by a mule. Nobody seen any of the accidents, but the evidence was such that you couldn't help see what happened. For instance, the guy that was kicked by a mule, he had a hoof mark on his head and his mule had a bloody hoof. The hit-run guy, we found in the middle of the high way." "Coincidence. Accidents almost invariably occur in threes or fours." "Sure; threes and fours, but not tens and twelves. But there's something else." "... yes?" * * * * * Charlie Ward moved a little closer and glanced behind him as he spoke. "Of the ten who met with accidents," he said, "nine had these red marks on their cheeks." "Excellent! Gorgeous!" Mr. Peck enthused through grinning lips. "A multiple murder! Nothing could be clearer or more fortunate!" "Well, you may be tickled, Mr. Peck, but I ain't. Several of the victims were close friends of mine." Mr. Peck's attitude changed at once. "I'm deeply sorry, Mr. Ward," he apologized. "My enthusiasm carried me away for the moment. Please proceed." Ward nodded and went on. "At first I didn't think very much about these blotches, but when this guy was brought in this morning, I began to get kind of nervous. As a matter of fact, I was just going to phone Frisco for help when you come in." Mr. Peck nodded and smacked his lips thoughtfully. He removed his glasses and wiped them slowly and carefully, polishing each lens with meticulous care. "You of course have a coroner or medical examiner of some kind," he finally said.