"In reality his twenty-first," Thomson went on. "On the morning of that day, the boy made his will, leaving the bulk of his estate to Ella Duncombe, and large legacies to the rest of the family. He also left a letter addressed to Ella Duncombe, in which he made clear the relations between them and spoke of their impending marriage. With those documents in his possession, Duncombe had no more use for the boy. There is no doubt, from your report, Lister, that he deliberately made his first attempt upon his life on that very morning. There is no doubt, also, that the boy, half-witted though he was, in his sullen way saw through the whole thing. His hate for Duncombe became a slow-burning passion--and there, I think, is the story of the tragedy." "And the will?" I asked. "It was committed to the flames on the morning of the tragedy by Duncombe's sister--also the letter. The estate goes to the Crown." Rose sighed. "All that money and no one any better off!" Mr. Thomson shrugged his shoulders. "The lawyers to the estate," he told us, "have made over ten thousand pounds to the Duncombe family." I took my courage into my hands. "I know your attitude towards questions, sir," I said, "but I feel bound to ask you one concerning this episode. What on earth did you expect to gain by bringing us in touch with it?" Our host sipped his wine thoughtfully. "I do not welcome questions," he admitted, "but bearing in mind the fact that this affair has been without any features of interest for you, I will reply. I knew perfectly well that Duncombe would make some attempt upon the life of Arthur Dompers. You were there to watch for it. You succeeded. Your report would have released the boy from Duncombe's control. Events, however, marched too quickly." "On whose behalf, then, were we acting," Leonard asked, "you and all of us? Were we philanthropists or detectives?" Our host shrugged his shoulders and helped himself to a cigar. "That," he replied, "will be Conundrum Number Five." CONUNDRUM NUMBER SIX THE DUKE'S DILEMMA "How does one address a duke?" Rose asked, looking up from the depth of her easy-chair. "No idea," I replied. "I don't suppose we shall see anything of him." "I only knew one," Leonard murmured reminiscently. "He was at Harrow and we used to call him Tubby." "I don't see that that's going to help us," Rose remarked. "However----" Then the door of our sitting room opened and to our surprise our host entered. He bowed to Rose and nodded to us in friendly fashion. "Very good of you to come down here and help us along," he said, pleasantly ignoring the fact that we were being paid fifty pounds a week and our expenses to help provide his guests with entertainment. "I hope you're quite comfortable?" We all three murmured an unqualified affirmative. The arrangements made for our comfort were indeed beyond criticism.