"Well, sir, and what do you make of 'em?" the sergeant asked cheerfully
as I shut up my note-book and straightened my back. "Whose bones are
they? Are they Mr. Bellingham's, think ye?"
"I should be very sorry to say whose bones they are," I replied. "One
bone is very much like another, you know."
"I suppose it is," he agreed; "but I thought that, with all that
measuring and all those notes, you might have arrived at something
definite." Evidently he was disappointed in me; and I was somewhat
disappointed in myself when I contrasted Thorndyke's elaborate
instructions with the meagre result of my investigations. For what did
my discoveries amount to? And how much was the inquiry advanced by the
few entries in my note-book?
The bones were apparently those of a man of fair though not remarkable
muscular development; over thirty years of age, but how much older I was
unable to say. His height I judged roughly to be five feet eight inches,
but my measurements would furnish data for a more exact estimate by
Thorndyke.
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