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“He found a thermos bottle. Instead of the regular cork, it had a light cotton stopper. In his muddled state, the steward did not stop to think–even if he had, he would have seen no reason for carefully corking something that was not designed to keep in a thermos bottle.

“But instead of whiskey, the bottle contained what had not yet evaporated of the liquid air. You may not know it, but liquid air can be easily preserved in open vessels with a stopper which allows the passage of the evaporated air. However paradoxical it may seem, it cannot be kept in closed vessels, for enormous pressures are at once brought into play.

“Benson opened the bottle and poured out some of the contents in the metal cup-cap of the bottle. He raised it to his lips–swallowed it–or that much of it that did not paralyze him. It expanded, boiled, exploded–producing the ghastly wound by almost literally blowing him up.

“The owner of the liquid air, who must have had it there waiting a chance to use it, was probably waiting up in the club rooms now, for a chance to get rid of it as evidence. He must have heard a noise down in the locker-room. What if he had been observed and someone were down there investigating?

“He hurried down there. To his horror, in the darkness, he found Benson, already dead, the locker open, the thermos bottle broken and the cup smashed.

“It was a terrible clew. He must get that body away from the locker-room. He could throw the bottle out; no one could suspect anything when the air had evaporated, as it soon would, now. But the body–that was different. The method he employed in getting rid of the body, I think you all must already know.”

I had been watching Wyndham’s face keenly. As Craig proceeded, I fancied that I saw in it a look of startled surprise.

” Was it one of Anita Allison’s many admirers who did this thing?” Craig asked suddenly.

I turned from Wyndham to Craig, wondering. What did he mean? Everyone had accepted that theory of the case so far. No one had questioned it. But, with his words, it suddenly dawned on me that it was by no means the only theory.

Before Craig could go on, there came a startled cry from one of the ladies.

“Oh–he did it–he did it!”

Anita Allison had fainted.

Dean Allison was at his sister’s side in a moment.

“Here–let me get her out into the fresh air,” he cried.

Wyndham had started up at the words and the two men were facing each other over the girl who had already discovered the secret, but had kept it locked in her breast.

“Walter–lock that door,” rang out Craig’s voice mercilessly.

I backed up, my whole weight against it, and turned the key.

“I know the gossip of Wall Street now,” shot out Kennedy hurriedly, facing the crowd who were all on their feet. “Today I have visited a number of speculative young gentlemen of Briar Lake, including Mr. Wyndham.

“The truth is that Miss Allison’s fortune was gone–dissipated in an unsuccessful bear raid on the market in which others have shared–and lost.

“If she had married, it meant an accounting and surrendering of her full control of her fortune. You have done this dastardly crime, Dean Allison, to keep your sister in ignorance of the loss and to save your own miserable reputation!”