“Or else that when he's sitting up you can follow the play of expression on his face,” Sir Clinton supplied, as an alternative. Wendover evidently saw the drift of the chief constable's remark. “So you think he was tied up that way, Clinton, because they wanted to talk to him; and they wanted to see his face clearly while they talked?” “Something of that sort might account for things. I don't press the point. Now we come to the next item—the smell of pear-drops.” “But that's accounted for all right, surely. I found the bag of sweets on the dresser myself,” Wendover protested. “Peter Hay had been eating them. There's nothing in that, Clinton.” Sir Clinton smiled a little sardonically. “Not so fast, squire. You found a bag of pear-drops, I admit. But who told you that Peter Hay bought them and put them there?” “It stands to reason that he did, surely,” Wendover protested. “The constable told you he kept a bag of sweets in the house for children.” “Quite so. And there wasn't a second bag there, I'll admit. But let's confine ourselves to the pear-drops for a moment. One can't deny that they've got a distinctive perfume. Can you think of anything else that smells like that?” Inspector Armadale's face lighted up. “That stuff they use for covering cuts—New-Skin, isn't it? That stuff smells like pear-drops.” The look of comprehension faded slowly as he added: “But I don't see how New-Skin comes into the affair, sir.” “No more do I, inspector,” Sir Clinton retorted blandly. “I should think New-Skin had nothing whatever to do with it.” “Then what's the point?” Armadale demanded. “It's plain enough, if you'd keep your ears open. When I encouraged the constable to babble at large about Peter Hay, I was on the look-out for one thing. I found out that he didn't suffer from asthma.” “I don't see it yet, sir,” the inspector admitted in perplexity. Wendover had the information which Armadale lacked. “Now I see what you're after, Clinton. You're thinking of amyl nitrite—the stuff asthmatics inhale when they get a bad turn? You wanted to know if Peter Hay ever used that as a drug? And, of course, now I come to think of it, that stuff has the pear-drop odour also.” “That's it, squire. Amyl nitrite for asthma; the solvent that evaporates and leaves the collodion behind when you use New-Skin; and the perfume of pear-drops—they're all derived from a stuff called amyl alcohol; and they all have much the same smell. Eliminate New-Skin, as it doesn't seem to fit into this case. That leaves you with the possibilities that the body smelt of pear-drops _or of amyl nitrite_.” Inspector Armadale was plainly out of his depth. “I don't see that you're much further forward, sir. After all, there are the pear-drops. What's the good of going further? If it's poison you're thinking of—— Is this amyl nitrite poisonous, and you think it might have been used in the pear-drops so that their perfume would cover its smell?”