“My idea is that Wiggins and some of his crew jumped on Hen Smitz and threw him down, and some of them held him while the others sewed him in. My idea is that Wiggins got that electric-light bulb to replace one that had burned out, and that he met Hen Smitz and had words with him, and they clinched, and Hen Smitz grabbed the bulb, and then the others came, and they sewed him into the burlap and dumped him into the river.
“So all you’ve got to do is to go out and tell that crowd that Wiggins did it and that you’ll let them know who helped him as soon as you find out. And you better do it before they break my windows.”
Detective Gubb turned and went out of the morgue. As he left the undertaker’s establishment the crowd gave a slight cheer, but Mr. Gubb walked hurriedly toward the jail. He found Policeman O’Toole there and questioned him about the bulb; and O’Toole, proud to be the center of so large and interested a gathering of his fellow citizens, pulled the bulb from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Gubb, while he repeated in more detail the facts given by Mr. Bartman. Mr. Gubb looked at the bulb.
“I presume to suppose,” he said, “that Mr. Wiggins asked the stock-keeper for a new bulb to replace one that was burned out?”
“You’re right,” said O’Toole. “Why?”
“For the reason that this bulb is a burned-out bulb,” said Mr. Gubb.
And so it was. The inner surface of the bulb was darkened slightly, and the filament of carbon was severed. O’Toole took the bulb and examined it curiously.
“That’s odd, ain’t it?” he said.
“It might so seem to the non-deteckative mind,” said Mr. Gubb, “but to the deteckative mind, nothing is odd.”