"There, there, Cleggett," said Wilton Barnstable kindly, "do not reproach yourself too bitterly." "But to let him escape when I had him----" Cleggett finished the sentence with a groan. But Wilton Barnstable was thinking. "Please have some lights brought down here if you will, Captain," he said to Abernethy, "and ask Mr. Bard and Mr. Ward to come." In a few minutes the interior of the hold was illuminated with lanterns; it was as bright as day. But the detectives did not proceed at once to a minute examination of the hold as Cleggett had supposed they would. Instead, they stood in the waist of the vessel and thought. Visibly they thought. Wilton Barnstable thought. Barton Ward thought. Watson Bard thought. They thought in silence. Cleggett could almost feel these three master brains pulsating in unison, working in rhythmic accord, there in the silence; the sense of this intense cerebral effort became almost oppressive.... Finally Wilton Barnstable began to stroke his mustache, and a pleased smile stole over his plump and benign visage. Barton Ward also began to stroke his mustache and smile. But it was twenty seconds more before Watson Bard's corrugated brow relaxed and his eyes twinkled with the idea that had come so much more readily to the other two. "Cleggett," said Wilton Barnstable, "you have heard of the deductive method as applied to the work of the detective?" "I have," said Cleggett. "I have read Poe's detective tales and Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories." "Ah! Sherlock Holmes!" The three detectives looked at each other with glances in which were mingled both bitterness and amusement; the look seemed to dispose of Sherlock Holmes. Once again Cleggett had a fleeting thought that Wilton Barnstable might possibly be a vain man. "Sherlock Holmes," said Barnstable, "never existed. His marvelous feats are not possible in real life, Cleggett. But the deductive method which he pretended to use--mind you, I say PRETENDED, Cleggett!--is, nevertheless, sound." And then the three detectives gave Cleggett an example of the phenomenal cleverness. "Mr. Ward," said Wilton Barnstable, "Logan Black entered this hold." "He did," said Barton Ward. "He is not here now," said Wilton Barnstable. "He is not," said Watson Bard. "Therefore he has escaped," said Wilton Barnstable. "But how?" said Barton Ward. "Only a ghost or an insect could leave this hold otherwise than by the hatchway, to all appearances," said Wilton Barnstable. "Logan Black is not a ghost," said Barton Ward firmly. "Logan Black is not an insect," said Watson Bard with conviction. "Then," said Barnstable, "that eliminates the supernatural and the--the----" "The entomological?" suggested Cleggett. The three detectives stared at him fixedly for a moment, as if surprised at the interruption. But if they were miffed they were too dignified to do more than hint it. Barnstable continued: "There is no such thing as magic." "There is not," said Ward.