The Crab itself alluded to the subject only so far as to suggest that the stupidity of an associate editor was accountable for the performance, and to hint that there was some reason for suspecting that bribery had been employed by the owners of rival papers, in the vain hope to bring the Crab, the only really infallible journal published, into contempt.
The efforts of McSorley, the coroner, to demonstrate the correctness of his theory of suicide were indefatigable. The body not having been discovered in any of the streams, McSorley began to search for it upon the land. The pursuit, however, was not profitable, for no traces of Mr. Cowdrick could be found. An ordinary coroner would have abandoned the hunt in despair; but McSorley was no common man. He brought to the performance of the functions of his office an enthusiasm which never failed to kindle at the promise of a fee; and as, in this case, he was thoroughly convinced that Cowdrick ought to have committed suicide, he felt that for Cowdrick to have evaded his duty in the matter would have been to perpetrate a wanton outrage upon Coroner McSorley.
The following extract from the local reports in the Crab will explain the character of the coroner’s ultimate effort:—
“Yesterday a number of large bones were discovered beneath an old stable on Twelfth Street, by some laborers. It was believed by most of the spectators that they were the bones of a horse. But Coroner McSorley, who was sent for, declared at once his belief that they were portions of the skeleton of one of our prominent citizens, a banker, who has been missing for several days. This view was contested by several of the persons present upon the ground that the remains were absolutely fleshless, and manifestly very old. But the coroner, to demonstrate the accuracy of his view, proceeded to arrange the bones upon the pavement in the form of a man. He succeeded in the attempt to some extent, and was about to summon his jury of inquest, when Dr. Wattles came up. The doctor examined the skeleton, and then the following conversation ensued between him and Coroner McSorley:—
“‘You don’t imagine that to be the skeleton of a human being, do you, Mr. McSorley?’
“Certainly it is! Don’t you see the shape of it?’
“‘But, my dear sir, what you have arranged as the spine, runs clear up through what you suppose to be the skull, and projects two or three inches beyond the top of the head.’
“‘Of course; and that is very likely the cause of all the trouble. The man’s spine worked up into his head and disordered his mind. An aunt of mine, in Wisconsin, went mad from that very cause.’
“‘But how do you account for the fact that there are three elbows in the left arm and none at all in the right.’
“‘Dr. Wattles, I am not obliged to account for eccentricities of formation in different individuals. I am satisfied with them as nature made them; and that is enough. It’s none of my business if Cowdrick had eleven elbows in one arm, and thirty-four in the other.’