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HANDCUFFS IN THE AIR.
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'That's how I found it this morning.' The decanter was more than half empty.

For the first time Martin's self-possession wavered. He took up the decanter quickly, tilted it before his eyes, and then stared amazedly at the others. He said slowly: 'There's not much short of half a bottle gone out of this since I last set eyes on it–and that was that Sunday night.'

'Nobody in the house, I suppose?' suggested Trent discreetly.

'Out of the question!' replied Martin briefly; then he added, 'I beg pardon, sir, but this is a most extraordinary thing to me. Such a thing never happened in all my experience of Mr. Manderson. As for the women-servants, they never touch anything, I can answer for it; and as for me, when I want a drink I can help myself without going to the decanters.' He took up the decanter again and aimlessly renewed his observation of the contents, while the inspector eyed him with a look of serene satisfaction, as a master contemplates his handiwork.

Trent turned to a fresh page of his notebook, and tapped it thoughtfully with his pencil.