Presently he picked up the poker, a massive steel affair, and proceeded to examine the fire-end with great minuteness. "It was done with the other end," said the inspector. "He must have wiped it afterwards. There was no sign of blood or hair." Malcolm Sage ignored the remark, and continued to regard the business-end of the poker. Walking over to the door, he examined the fastenings. Having taken a general survey, he next proceeded to a detailed scrutiny of everything the place contained. From the fireplace he picked up what looked like a cinder and placed it in a small box, which he put in his pocket. The polished surface of the table he subjected to a careful examination, borrowing the inspector's magnifying-glass for the purpose. On hands and knees he crawled round the table, still using the magnifying-glass upon the linoleum, with which the floor was covered. From time to time he would pick up some apparently minute object and transfer it to another small box. At length he rose to his feet as if satisfied. "The professor did not smoke?" he queried. "No; but the murderer did," was the rather brusque reply. Inspector Carfon was finding the role of audience trying, alike to his nerves and to his temper. "Obviously," was Malcolm Sage's dry retort. "He also left his pipe behind and had to return for it. It was rather a foul pipe, too," he added. "Left his pipe behind!" cried the inspector, his irritation dropping from him like a garment. "How on earth----!" In his surprise he left the sentence unfinished. "Here," Malcolm Sage indicated a dark stain on the highly-polished table, "and here," he pointed to a few flecks of ash some four or five inches distant, "are indications that a pipe has remained for some considerable time, long enough for the nicotine to drain through the stem; it was a very foul pipe, Carfon." "But mightn't that have trickled out in a few minutes, or while the man was here?" objected Inspector Carfon. "With a wet smoker the saliva might have drained back," said Malcolm Sage, his eyes upon the stain, "but this is nicotine from higher up the stem, which would take time to flow out. As to leaving it on the table, what inveterate smoker would allow a pipe to lie on a table for any length of time unless he left it behind him? The man smoked like a chimney; look at the tobacco ash in the fireplace." The inspector stared at Malcolm Sage, chagrin in his look. "Now that photograph, Carfon," said Malcolm Sage. Taking a letter-case from his breast-pocket, Inspector Carfon drew out a photograph folded in half. This he handed to Malcolm Sage, who, after a keen glance at the grim and gruesome picture, put it in his pocket. "I thought so," he murmured. "Thought what, Mr. Sage?" enquired the inspector eagerly. "Left-handed." When keenly interested Malcolm Sage was more than usually economical in words.