He drew the thing off again and turned to me. "I'm going to put the first one on you, Walter," he remarked. "You will be my 'control' in the experiment, as we call it."
Carefully he adjusted the thing on my wrist, and as he did so I realized that his purpose had been rather to get them familiar with what he was going to do than for any reason directed at me as a control. I watched the liquid in the indicator pulsing minutely as he finished.
Next he had turned and adjusted one after another of the instruments on the others, first Honora, then Shattuck, and finally Lathrop. When he came to Leslie and Doyle he paused and finally decided that as a "control" I was sufficient.
It was interesting to see how each of them took it. Honora accepted it with her previous passivity. Naturally Shattuck rebelled and it was only after a lengthy argument in which Doyle moved over ominously that he accepted. Lathrop viewed it, naturally, with the interest of a man of science.
"Of course, as you all realize," remarked Craig, as he finished adjusting the instruments, whatever they were, "there have been many very strange ramifications to this case. It began in tragedy and it seems to continue in tragedy. Crime is like the train of powder. When the match is touched to it the fire runs along rapidly until it reaches the magazine—which it will explode unless the fire is stamped out at some point along the line."
As he said it he glanced about at the faces before him, as though to see what each indicated. Even Doctor Lathrop, in spite of the suicide of his wife, showed no emotion.
"There is no use for me to rehearse the strange circumstances that root back into the past," Craig continued. "They are well known in general to all of you—the society gossip, the scandals that have been repeated widely. Motives enough for everybody have appeared in this case as I have delved into it. What we want now is facts."
He paused and leaned forward earnestly.
"It has always been a theorem with me that one might reason out by all sorts of logical means that a certain person could not have done a certain act at a certain time and place. And yet, when it has been reasoned out perfectly to the satisfaction of the reasoner—you may find that the person actually did it. Therefore, I am a sort of modern Gradgrind. What I want is facts—facts—facts."
As he finished he turned toward the table. Nor did he seem disposed to add anything immediately. Still, we could see what he was doing and such was the attention riveted on him that I am sure none of us missed a movement of his.