One of them was a local constable, evidently in
official charge; a second was a labouring man, very muddy and wet, who
carried a small sack; while in the third I thought I scented a
professional brother.
The sergeant continued to hold the door open.
"Nothing more I can do for you, sir?" he asked genially.
"Is that the divisional surgeon?" I inquired.
"Yes. I am the divisional surgeon," the new-comer answered. "Did you
want anything of me?"
"This," said the sergeant, "is a medical gentleman who has got
permission from the coroner to inspect the remains. He is acting for the
family of the deceased--I mean, for the family of Mr. Bellingham," he
added in answer to an inquiring glance from the surgeon.
"I see," said the latter. "Well, they have found the rest of the trunk,
including, I understand, the ribs that were missing from the other part.
Isn't that so, Davis?"
"Yes, sir," replied the constable. "Inspector Badger says all the ribs
is here, and all the bones of the neck as well."
"The inspector seems to be an anatomist," I remarked.
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