"It was found beneath the pillow of a negro missionary who had
died mysteriously during the night."
He returned the tray to the drawer, closed the latter, and, standing
erect, raised clenched hands above his head.
"With no thought of blasphemy," he said, "but with reverence, I thank
God from the bottom of my heart that Juan Menendez is dead."
He reseated himself, whilst Harley regarded him silently, then:
"'The evil that men do lives after them,'" he murmured. He rested his
chin upon his hand. "A bat wing," he continued, musingly, "a bat wing
was nailed to Menendez's door." He stared across at Harley. "Am I to
believe, sir, that this was the clue which led you to the Guest House?"
Paul Harley nodded.
"It was."
"I understand. I must therefore take no more excursions into my special
subject, but must endeavour to regard the matter from the point of view
of the enquiry. Am I to assume that Menendez was acquainted with the
significance of this token?"
"He had seen it employed in the West Indies."
"Ah, the black-hearted devil! But I fear I am involving myself more
deeply in suspicion. Perhaps, Mr.
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