The young scientist made a hurried examination of the rooms. Nothing of
value was missing. He began to wonder what kind of burglars they were.
He looked up sharply at Mrs. Fewings standing in the doorway. For a
moment he seemed to cast about in his mind for something.

"Odd," he said at length. "I only left here an hour ago and everything
was all right then."

"Was it, sir? Yes, sir." She glanced sharply at him. Her room looked out
upon the courtyard, and she must have seen the books come crashing down,
and also have heard her master leave the house a few minutes later.

"And what's this rubbish the brutes have left?" he cried, taking up
two slabs of worn gray stone, on the writing-table. "Bath brick, or
something, I do declare."

He looked very sharply again at the confused and troubled housekeeper.

"Throw them on the dust heap, Mrs. Fewings, and--and let me know if
anything is missing in the house, and I will notify the police this
evening."

When she left the room he went into the laboratory and took his watch
off the skeleton's fingers. His face wore a troubled expression, but
after a moment's thought it cleared again. His memory was a complete
blank.

"I suppose I left it on the writing-table when I went out to take the
air," he said. And there was no one present to contradict him.