setting out the tea-service on the table. I glanced at him with some
curiosity. He hardly looked like a servant, in spite of his neat, black
clothes; in fact, his appearance was rather puzzling, for while his
quiet dignity and his serious, intelligent face suggested some kind of
professional man, his neat, capable hands were those of a skilled
mechanic.

Thorndyke surveyed the tea-tray thoughtfully and then looked at his
retainer. "I see you have put three tea-cups, Polton," he said. "Now,
how did you know I was bringing someone in to tea?"

The little man smiled a quaint, crinkly smile of gratification as he
explained:

"I happened to look out of the laboratory window as you turned the
corner, sir."

"How disappointingly simple," said Jervis. "We were hoping for something
abstruse and telepathic."

"Simplicity is the soul of efficiency, sir," replied Polton as he
checked the tea-service to make sure that nothing was forgotten, and
with this remarkable aphorism he silently evaporated.

"To return to the Bellingham case," said Thorndyke, when he had poured
out the tea. "Have you picked up any facts relating to the parties--any
facts, I mean, of course, that it would be proper for you to mention?"

"I have learned one or two things that there is no harm in repeating.
For instance, I gather that Godfrey Bellingham--my patient--lost all his