“Look here, I wanted to tell somebody about it. You know, of course, that I preached about Brotherhood last night. I wasn’t quite sure whether it was the thing to do—it seemed a bit unfair at the time. Anyhow, I felt I ought to. Then at dinner, if you remember, you and Carmichael were ragging about it—wondering what would happen if old Brotherhood came back.” “Yes, I remember.” “Well, of course that may have preyed on my nerves a bit. Anyhow, I went upstairs to my room, and found my pipe chocked up—you know.” “Yes, it’s funny the way they do get chocked up.” “So I went along to Reeves’ room to bag one of his pipe-cleaners. It was dark and he wasn’t in, so I turned on the light. And there, right in front of me, I saw old Brotherhood’s oak stick—the one he used to carry with him. I remember, when he preached on the village green. I remember his quoting Johnson’s refutation of Berkeley—you know the thing—and banging that stick on the ground. That was the stick I saw.” “In Reeves’ room?” “Yes, by the side of his arm-chair. And—I didn’t exactly _see_ anything, you know, only it looked exactly as if Brotherhood himself were sitting in the chair, invisible, with his hand resting on the stick. I was just telling myself I was a fool, when—he breathed.” “Who did?” “I don’t know. There was nobody in the room—nobody visible, I mean. That was too much for me, I’m afraid. I went to my room and locked myself in. You see, I’m psychic, rather. Always have been, from a kid.” “And was that all your trouble?” “No. I had half thought about seeing a man about it while I was up in London anyhow. And then, just as I was starting for the train, that beastly metaphone thing in my room whistled. So I went and said ‘Who’s speaking?’—and—I may be an awful fool, you know, but I thought the thing said ‘It’s Brotherhood.’ And at that I fairly dropped the tube and raced for the train. Then in London I went to see this fool of a specialist, and of course he told me I’d been overdoing it.” Gordon’s eyes twinkled. “You’d have saved yourself a couple of guineas at least,” he said, “if you’d talked to me earlier.” “Oh! Why, what’s the point?” “Well—that stick. It had a perfect right to be in Reeves’ room. He found it yesterday afternoon on the railway line; Brotherhood must have dropped it when—he fell. So of course Reeves brought it back here, and it was standing up against his chair last night. There was nobody sitting there.” “But hang it all, I swear I heard somebody breathing.” “You did. That was just bad luck. The fact is, Reeves and I were fooling about inside that secret passage, and saw you come in. And the breathing was done by Reeves, off.” “Good Lord! Why didn’t you tell me?” “Well, you didn’t give us much chance, did you, going and locking yourself up in your room like that? And then this morning Reeves ’phoned you up from the steward’s office to tell you the news.” “What news?” “That the mystery about Brotherhood’s murder was solved.”