"Good Lord!" exclaimed Allerdyke, with obvious impatience. "Why, I always
considered him as one of the fittest men I ever knew!"

"Perhaps you did," said the doctor. "Laymen, sir, do not see what a
trained eye sees. The proof in his case is--there!"

He pointed to the dead man, at whom the night-porter was staring with
astonished eyes.

Allerdyke stared, too, or seemed to stare. In reality, he was gazing into
space, wondering about what had just been said.

"Then you think he died a natural death?" he asked, suddenly turning on
his companion. "You don't think there's--anything wrong?"

The doctor shook his head calmly.

"I think he died of precisely what I should have expected him to die of,"
he answered. "Heart failure. It came upon him quite suddenly. You see, he
was in the act of taking off his boots. He is a little fleshy--stout. The
exertion of bending over and down--that was too much. He felt a sharp
spasm--he sat back--he died, there and then."

"There and then!" repeated Allerdyke mechanically. "Well--what's to be
done!" he went on. "What is done in these cases--I suppose you know?"

"There will have to be an inquest later on," answered the doctor. "I can
give evidence for you, if you like--I am staying in Hull for a few
days--for I can certainly testify to what I had observed. But that comes
later--at present you had better acquaint the manager of the hotel, and I