"Why? To make sure that the bottle of poison would be found before anything might cause it to be removed."
The people soon dispersed. Nick followed the man who had spoken about the boat.
"I have heard of the suicide," he said, as he reached the man's side, "and I am curious to know what this boat business means."
"It means murder, according to my way of thinking," said the man, who had an intelligent, honest countenance, and was in workman's clothes.
"I did not know that Filbon owned a boat."
"He has had it for more than a year. It's a yawl, and he used to keep it in the open part of the wharf. I saw it yesterday before dark. This morning it was gone."
Further conversation failed to elicit anything of importance. Nick left the man and went out upon the wharf. There was nothing there but a few empty barrels, pieces of rotting lumber, and staves. But every part of it was given a searching inspection. Before an overturned barrel, the top hoop of which was broken, so that a section half a foot in length stood straight out with its jagged edge, the detective remained for some moments. The circular impression directly behind it was of a nature to show Nick's experienced eyes that the barrel had been overturned but a short time before. Perhaps the overturning had occurred during the night.
Nick rolled it aside, keeping his eyes upon the planks. At the first movement something was disclosed which made the detective draw a sharp breath. The something was a lady's brooch of gold, green-enameled, made in the form of a lizard. The barrel had not rested upon it, but it had been concealed by the barrel's curve. It was a valuable discovery, but it was not in the line of anything Nick had hoped to find. He knew to whom it belonged, for he had seen it upon the breast of the owner in San Francisco a year before. That person was Cora Reesey, otherwise Madame Ree, who had been Luke Filbon's evil genius, and who was the avowed enemy of the great detective.