"Now the question is," said Fanks, seriously, laying his hand on one of the Doctor's large knees, "the question is: What do those two extra pills mean?" The Doctor said nothing, but looked inquiringly at the pill-box, as if he expected it to answer. "I own," resumed Fanks, leaning back in his chair, "I own that I was half inclined to agree with the verdict of the jurors; it looked like suicide, but I had a kind of uneasy feeling that looks in this case were deceptive, so I thought I would like to know the name of the dead man, in order to find out if there was anything in his past life likely to lead him to self-destruction. I found the name, as I have told you, and I also discovered that there are two extra pills in that box, which have been added after it left the hands of Wosk & Co.--you understand." "Perfectly." "Now, those pills cannot have been added by Melstane, as he had no reason to do so. Twelve pills are enough for a man even with nerves, so why should he make those twelve into fourteen?" "Ah, why, indeed?" said Japix, ponderously. "And your theory?" "Is simply this. You say Melstane was a scamp; naturally he must have had enemies. Now I firmly believe that the two extra pills contain poison--say morphia, of which Melstane died--and they were placed in the box surreptitiously by one of his enemies." "Natural enough." "Melstane," continued Fanks, impressively, leaning forward, "took one of those extra pills, according to his usual custom, before going to bed, quite innocent of doing himself any harm. In the morning Melstane is found dead, and there is no evidence to show how he came by his death." "Horrible! Horrible!" "But observe," said Fanks, emphasizing his remarks with his forefinger, "observe how 'vaulting ambition o'er-leaps itself.' Again our divine William, Doctor. In other words, observe how the anxiety of the murderer to ensure the death of his victim has led to a danger of his own discovery. If he--I allude to the murderer--had put in one pill, making thirteen--which would have been a lucky number for our undiscovered criminal--the victim would have taken it, and absolutely no trace could have been discovered. Unluckily, however, for the criminal, he, afraid one morphia pill may not effectively do the work, puts in two morphia pills. Result, Sebastian Melstane, in perfect innocence, takes one and dies. The other pill--damning evidence, my dear Doctor--is one of the eight in that box, and I want you to analyse the whole eight pills in order to find that special one." "And suppose I don't find it?" said Japix, putting the box on the table. "In that case my theory falls to the ground, and Sebastian Melstane's death will remain a mystery to all men. But as sure as I sit here, Dr. Japix, you will find a deadly morphia pill among those seven harmless tonic pills."