"Then I commission you to do that also. Should you say there was anything peculiar about those teeth? Anything identifying?"
"Yes. Certainly. The jaw is uncommonly narrow for an adult--"
"But you are sure it is an adult?" I asked anxiously. The possibility that a child might have been sampling Barker's apples struck me for the first time. But Dr. Kenton reassured me.
"It is an adult, is it not?"
"I don't know who it is. What I want to do is to use this record to identify the man who bit these apples,--let's call him Adam for the present. I am hoping that his inherited taste for the fatal fruit may in time lead to his fall. In other words, Dr. Kenton, I am trying to identify a criminal of whom I have, at present, no information except that I believe him to be the man who put his teeth into these apples. If I find my suspicions focusing upon anyone in particular, I shall call upon you to examine his teeth. You understand, of course, that all this is in professional confidence and in the cause of justice."
Dr. Kenton's eyes lighted up with a glow of triumph. He put out his hand.
"Let me shake hands with you. That is an idea which I have been urging through the dental journals for years. The insurance companies should require dental identification in any case of uncertainty. There is no means of identification so absolutely certain."
"I am glad to have you confirm my impression, Doctor. Now, you will have to take this impression before the fruit withers, and then I want you to come with me to the morgue and get an impression of the teeth of Alfred Barker, the man who was killed last night in the Phœnix Building."
"Did he bite that?" Dr. Kenton asked, with a tone of awe.
"I am sure he did not. I want to be able to prove he did not, if that claim should be made." And I explained to him enough of the situation to secure his sympathetic understanding.