"Heavens!" said he, under his breath. "It's the man whose picture we
saw inside there on the wall."

Even the shock of death could not, so it seemed, drive the sneer from
the thick lips; mockery was frozen in the dead eyes.

"What a beast he must have been," went on Pendleton. "Like a satyr. I
don't think I ever saw just that type of face before."

Ashton-Kirk was bending over the body; suddenly he raised himself.

"There is a heavy bruise on the forehead," said he. "He was felled
first; then bayoneted."

"Bayoneted!" Pendleton peered at the body.

"There it is, sticking from his chest." Ashton-Kirk drew aside the
breast of the dead man's coat and his companion caught sight of a
bronze hilt. The broad, sword-like blade had been driven completely
home.

"If we attempted to move the body," said the investigator, "I should
not be surprised if we found it pinned to the floor. It took brawn to
give that stroke; the man who dealt it made sure of the job."

With soft, quick steps he crossed the room. The doors of the safes
were locked.

"If the purpose was robbery," said Ashton-Kirk, "the criminal
evidently knew where to look for the most portable and valuable