“You remember, doctor, that I carefully examined them.  It was plain that a much larger man than the doctor had worn them.

“The seams in the back and around the arms were strained, and some of them had burst.  This was only a hint, of course, but it fitted the remainder of the case.

“The strongest indication, however, was the way Deever secured testimony.  I had only to hint that I wanted to cover a point, and he immediately went out and secured the witness.”

“But most of them told the truth,” said the superintendent.

“Yes,” Nick admitted, “there he was wonderfully helped by fate.  It happened that he was seen at just the right moments, when he was playing the part of Dr. Jarvis.

“If he hadn’t been so impatient it would even have been unnecessary for him to produce this man Flint.  Chick secured real witnesses who were much better.

“And there we come to the point where we are sure about Deever.  Prescott and Miss Allen told the truth.  Flint, prompted by Deever, told exactly the same story.

“Therefore, Deever must have known precisely what the facts were.  Investigation convinces me that he could have known them in only one way—­by being himself the person who performed the acts described.”

“Do you mean to accuse me of murdering my brother?” demanded Deever.

“Certainly not,” said Nick.  “Do you remember the question I asked you on the first day of the investigation?  I asked, ‘Who has been murdered?’”

“Well?”

“I answer that question now.  Nobody has been murdered.  Your brother is alive.  There is nothing the matter with him, except a scalp wound.  The body found was a substitute which you procured.  It was you who made the wounds with the spade.”

“This is all bare assertion,” cried Deever, who, in irons, sat upon the floor with his back against a chair.  “You cannot prove what you say.”

“Let me first explain how the trick was done,” said Nick, coolly.  “Your brother, after he had somewhat recovered from the effects of the blow he had received, went to your house.

“He wished you to help him get revenge upon Dr. Jarvis.  You had your own grudge against him on account of your unsuccessful suit for his daughter.

“You saw the chance of a deeper revenge than your brother had any idea of.  You then planned this whole conspiracy.  He was to go away forever.  You were to remain, and make this charge against the doctor.”

“It is an infernal lie,” shrieked Deever.  “Where is my brother?  I demand that you produce him.”

“Your brother is now hidden in your house at Nyack.  It was vacant.  You told him to go there, until you could make arrangements to get him safely away.  As to the body, you bought it of a grave-robber.”

“How do you pretend to know that?” asked Deever, scornfully.

“As to the body, I can produce the man who sold it.  As to your brother, I know where he has gone, because no other course was practicable; and because I have had word that he is there.”