Mr. Murch chuckled. “I thought I should take a rise out of you, Mr. Trent,” he said. “Well, there’s no harm in telling you. After I arrived yesterday evening, as soon as I had got the outlines of the story from Mrs. Manderson and the servants, the first thing I did was to go to the telegraph office and wire to our people in Southampton. Manderson had told his wife when he went to bed that he had changed his mind, and sent Marlowe to Southampton to get some important information from some one who was crossing by the next day’s boat. It seemed right enough, but, you see, Marlowe was the only one of the household who wasn’t under my hand, so to speak. He didn’t return in the car until later in the evening; so before thinking the matter out any further, I wired to Southampton making certain enquiries. Early this morning I got this reply.” He handed a series of telegraph slips to Trent, who read: Person answering description in motor answering description arrived Bedford Hotel here 6.30 this morning gave name Marlowe left car hotel garage told attendant car belonged Manderson had bath and breakfast went out heard of later at docks inquiring for passenger name Harris on Havre boat inquired repeatedly until boat left at noon next heard of at hotel where he lunched about 1.15 left soon afterwards in car company’s agents inform berth was booked name Harris last week but Harris did not travel by boat Burke Inspector. “Simple and satisfactory,” observed Mr. Murch as Trent, after twice reading the message, returned it to him. “His own story corroborated in every particular. He told me he hung about the dock for half an hour or so on the chance of Harris turning up late, then strolled back, lunched, and decided to return at once. He sent a wire to Manderson—‘Harris not turned up missed boat returning Marlowe,’ which was duly delivered here in the afternoon, and placed among the dead man’s letters. He motored back at a good rate, and arrived dog-tired. When he heard of Manderson’s death from Martin, he nearly fainted. What with that and the being without sleep for so long, he was rather a wreck when I came to interview him last night; but he was perfectly coherent.” Trent picked up the revolver and twirled the cylinder idly for a few moments. “It was unlucky for Manderson that Marlowe left his pistol and cartridges about so carelessly,” he remarked at length, as he put it back in the case. “It was throwing temptation in somebody’s way, don’t you think?”