“There is a sheath,” I said, “but no knife. It must have dropped out.”
“That is rather odd,” said Thorndyke. “A sailor’s sheath-knife takes a deal of shaking out as a rule. It is intended to be used in working on the rigging when the man is aloft, so that he can get it out with one hand while he is holding on with the other. It has to be and usually is very secure, for the sheath holds half the handle as well as the blade. What makes one notice the matter in this case is that the man, as you see, carried a pocket-knife; and, as this would serve all the ordinary purposes of a knife, it seems to suggest that the sheath-knife was carried for defensive purposes: as a weapon, in fact. However, we can’t get much further in the case with out a post mortem, and here comes the captain.”
Captain Grumpass entered the shed and looked down commiseratingly at the dead seaman.
“Is there anything, doctor, that throws any light on the man’s disappearance?” he asked.
“There are one or two curious features in the case,” Thorndyke replied; “but, oddly enough, the only really important point arises out of that statement of the coastguard’s, concerning which you were so scornful.”
“You don’t say so!” exclaimed the captain.
“Yes,” said Thorndyke; “the coast-guard states that when last seen deceased was filling his pipe from his tobacco pouch. Now his pouch contains shag; but the pipe in his pocket contains hard cut.”
“Is there no cake tobacco in any of the pockets?”
“Not a fragment. Of course, it is possible that he might have had a piece and used it up to fill the pipe; but there is no trace of any on the blade of his pocket-knife, and you know how this juicy black cake stains a knife-blade. His sheath-knife is missing, but he would hardly have used that to shred tobacco when he had a pocket-knife.”
“No,” assented the captain; “but are you sure he hadn’t a second pipe?”