"I thought you would say so, Mr. Holmes," said White Mason in greatdelight. "We're well up with the times in Sussex. I've told you now howmatters were, up to the time when I took over from Sergeant Wilsonbetween three and four this morning. My word! I made the old mare go!But I need not have been in such a hurry, as it turned out; for therewas nothing immediate that I could do. Sergeant Wilson had all thefacts. I checked them and considered them and maybe added a few of myown."
"What were they?" asked Holmes eagerly.
"Well, I first had the hammer examined. There was Dr. Wood there tohelp me. We found no signs of violence upon it. I was hoping that ifMr. Douglas defended himself with the hammer, he might have left hismark upon the murderer before he dropped it on the mat. But there wasno stain."
"That, of course, proves nothing at all," remarked Inspector MacDonald."There has been many a hammer murder and no trace on the hammer."
"Quite so. It doesn't prove it wasn't used. But there might have beenstains, and that would have helped us. As a matter of fact there werenone. Then I examined the gun. They were buckshot cartridges, and, asSergeant Wilson pointed out, the triggers were wired together so that,if you pulled on the hinder one, both barrels were discharged. Whoeverfixed that up had made up his mind that he was going to take no chancesof missing his man. The sawed gun was not more than two foot long--onecould carry it easily under one's coat. There was no complete maker'sname; but the printed letters P-E-N were on the fluting between thebarrels, and the rest of the name had been cut off by the saw."
"A big P with a flourish above it, E and N smaller?" asked Holmes.
"Exactly."
"Pennsylvania Small Arms Company--well-known American firm," saidHolmes.
White Mason gazed at my friend as the little village practitioner looksat the Harley Street specialist who by a word can solve thedifficulties that perplex him.
"That is very helpful, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right. Wonderful!Wonderful! Do you carry the names of all the gun makers in the world inyour memory?"
Holmes dismissed the subject with a wave.
"No doubt it is an American shotgun," White Mason continued. "I seem tohave read that a sawed-off shotgun is a weapon used in some parts ofAmerica. Apart from the name upon the barrel, the idea had occurred tome. There is some evidence then, that this man who entered the houseand killed its master was an American."
MacDonald shook his head. "Man, you are surely travelling overfast,"said he. "I have heard no evidence yet that any stranger was ever inthe house at all."
"The open window, the blood on the sill, the queer card, the marks ofboots in the corner, the gun!"
"Nothing there that could not have been arranged. Mr. Douglas was anAmerican, or had lived long in America. So had Mr. Barker. You don'tneed to import an American from outside in order to account forAmerican doings."
"Ames, the butler--"
"What about him? Is he reliable?"
"Ten years with Sir Charles Chandos--as solid as a rock. He has beenwith Douglas ever since he took the Manor House five years ago. He hasnever seen a gun of this sort in the house."
"The gun was made to conceal. That's why the barrels were sawed. Itwould fit into any box. How could he swear there was no such gun in thehouse?"
"Well, anyhow, he had never seen one."
MacDonald shook his obstinate Scotch head. "I'm not convinced yet thatthere was ever anyone in the house," said he. "I'm asking you toconseedar" (his accent became more Aberdonian as he lost himself in hisargument) "I'm asking you to conseedar what it involves if you supposethat this gun was ever brought into the house, and that all thesestrange things were done by a person from outside. Oh, man, it's justinconceivable! It's clean against common sense! I put it to you, Mr.Holmes, judging it by what we have heard."
"Well, state your case, Mr. Mac," said Holmes in his most judicialstyle.
"The man is not a burglar, supposing that he ever existed. The ringbusiness and the card point to premeditated murder for some privatereason. Very good. Here is a man who slips into a house with thedeliberate intention of committing murder. He knows, if he knowsanything, that he will have a deeficulty in making his escape, as thehouse is surrounded with water. What weapon would he choose? You wouldsay the most silent in the world. Then he could hope when the deed wasdone to slip quickly from the window, to wade the moat, and to get awayat his leisure. That's understandable. But is it understandable that heshould go out of his way to bring with him the most noisy weapon hecould select, knowing well that it will fetch every human being in thehouse to the spot as quick as they can run, and that it is all oddsthat he will be seen before he can get across the moat? Is thatcredible, Mr. Holmes?"
"Well, you put the case strongly," my friend replied thoughtfully. "Itcertainly needs a good deal of justification. May I ask, Mr. WhiteMason, whether you examined the farther side of the moat at once to seeif there were any signs of the man having climbed out from the water?"
"There were no signs, Mr. Holmes. But it is a stone ledge, and onecould hardly expect them."
"No tracks or marks?"
"None."
"Ha! Would there be any objection, Mr. White Mason, to our going downto the house at once? There may possibly be some small point whichmight be suggestive."
"I was going to propose it, Mr. Holmes; but I thought it well to putyou in touch with all the facts before we go. I suppose if anythingshould strike you--" White Mason looked doubtfully at the amateur.
"I have worked with Mr. Holmes before," said Inspector MacDonald. "Heplays the game."