On a low stone shelf at one side a covered figure was lying, gruesome in its suggestiveness, but the size of which at once convinced Nick that it could not be the body of Andy Margate.
Near the opposite wall, nevertheless, and equally convincing to the detective, stood a long, narrow box, somewhat faded and defaced, which Nick saw at a glance was about the size of the imprint found in the alley back of Fink’s undertaking rooms.
“It’s not a very agreeable sight, Mr. Ryder, but I thought you might wish to omit nothing in connection with my establishment,” said Doctor Dabney, in apologetic tones.
“Quite right,” Nick replied. “Do you mind if I step in?”
“Certainly not,” said the physician, with a look of surprise.
“Such things do not affect me seriously,” Nick added. “The room appears well adapted to what is required of it. May I ask, Doctor Dabney, what this box contains?”
Nick touched it with his foot.
“Nothing whatever. It is empty.”
“Are you sure of it?”
“Sure of it—certainly,” exclaimed the physician. “It was put here only temporarily. It contained the casement in which a skeleton was recently shipped to me from[{14}] New York. The skeleton has been removed and is now in the dissecting room.”