"Yes, sir, yes! O Lord, what a muddle!"
Again the boy stood in front of the fireplace, musing deeply.
"New?" he said, turning to the electric lamp on the nearby table.
"Yes," said Iris, puzzled at his actions. "When the man knocked Auntie down the table was overturned and the lamp smashed to bits. We put a new one in its place."
"Oh, all right. Now where was that cigarette stub found, and how far was it burned?"
Hughes disliked to answer the boy's questions, but Fleming Stone turned expectantly toward him, so he replied, "It was on the desk, and it was about half-smoked."
"And this poker? Did it lie here, where it is now? Wasn't she hit with it?"
"Those things have all been thrashed out," replied Hughes, a little petulantly. "No, she wasn't hit with the poker, she was flung down and her head knocked onto the sharp knob on the fender."
"How do you know?"
"There's a blood stain on the brass knob, and her head was right by it. The poker is two feet away."