Sarakoff went down on all fours and looked at the spot keenly.
"Ah, on the line of the aqueduct! But how do you know it is there?"
"It has cut short an epidemic of measles. The doctors are puzzled."
Sarakoff nodded. He was looking at the names of the other towns that lay on the course of the aqueduct.
"Cleobury-Mortimer," he spelt out. "No news from there?"
"None."
"And none from Birmingham yet?"
"None."
"We'll have news to-morrow." He raised himself on his knees. "Trout and then measles!" he said, and laughed. "This is only the beginning. No wonder the Ludlow doctors are puzzled."
The same evening there was further news of the progress of the bacillus. From Cleobury-Mortimer, ten miles from Ludlow, and twenty from Birmingham, it was reported that the measles epidemic there had been cut short in the same mysterious manner as noticed in Ludlow. But next morning a paragraph of considerable length appeared which I read out in a trembling voice to Sarakoff.