We burst out into loud laughter at this remarkable answer, but Soelling continued:  “Can you imagine it?  Both arms are gone, cut off at the shoulder joint;—­and the strangest part of it is that the same thing has been done to my shabby old skeleton which stands in my bedroom, There wasn’t an arm on either of them.”

“That’s too bad,” I remarked.  “For we were just going to study the anatomy of the arm to-night.”

“Osteology,” corrected Soelling gravely.  “Get out your skeleton, little Simsen.  It isn’t as good as mine, but it will do for this evening.”

I went to the corner where my anatomical treasures were hidden behind a green curtain—­“the Museum,” was what Soelling called it—­but my astonishment was great when I found my skeleton in its accustomed place and wearing as usual my student’s uniform—­but without arms.

“The devil!” cried Soelling.  “That was done by the same person who robbed me; the arms are taken off at the shoulder joint in exactly the same manner.  You did it, Simsen!”

I declared my innocence, very angry at the abuse of my fine skeleton, while Nansen cried:  “Wait a moment, I’ll bring in mine.  There hasn’t been a soul in my room since this morning, I can swear to that.  I’ll be back in an instant.”

He hurried into his room, but returned in a few moments greatly depressed and somewhat ashamed.  The skeleton was in its usual place, but the arms were gone, cut off at the shoulder in exactly the same manner as mine.

The affair, mysterious in itself, had now come to be a serious matter.  We lost ourselves in suggestions and explanations, none of which seemed to throw any light on the subject.  Finally we sent a messenger to the other side of the house where, as I happened to know, was a new skeleton which the young student Ravn had recently received from the janitor of the hospital.

Ravn had gone out and taken the key with him.  The messenger whom we had sent to the rooms of the Iceland students returned with the information that one of them had used the only skeleton they possessed to pummel the other with, and that consequently only the thigh bones were left unbroken.

What were we to do?  We couldn’t understand the matter at all.  Soelling scolded and cursed and the company was about to break up when we heard some one coming noisily upstairs.  The door was thrown open and a tall, thin figure appeared on the threshold—­our good friend Niels Daae.

He was a strange chap, this Niels Daae, the true type of a species seldom found nowadays.  He was no longer young, and by reason of a queer chain of circumstances, as he expressed it, he had been through nearly all the professions and could produce papers proving that he had been on the point of passing not one but three examinations.

He had begun with theology; but the story of the quarrel between Jacob and Esau had led him to take up the study of law.  As a law student he had come across an interesting poisoning case, which had proved to him that a study of medicine was extremely necessary for lawyers; and he had taken up the study of medicine with such energy that he had forgotten all his law and was about to take his last examinations at the age of forty.