The Mystery of the Four Fingers | Page 8

in that

box!"
"I think I could tell you," Venner said, with a smile. "Didn't you tell me
that the mysterious waiter fetched it from the table where it had been
placed by the handsome cripple?"
"Certainly, he did. I saw the signal pass directly Fenwick asked for a
wooden match; that funny little waiter was palpably waiting for the
silver box, and as soon as he placed it on Fenwick's table, he discreetly
vanished. But, as I said before, I would give considerable to know what
was in that box."
"Well, go and see," Venner said grimly. "Unless my eyes deceive me,
the box is still lying on Fenwick's table. In his fright, he forgot all about
it, and there isn't a waiter among the whole lot, from the chief
downwards, who has a really clear impression of what the offence was.
If you take my advice, you will go and have a peep into that box when
you get the chance. Don't tell me what you find, because I will guess
that."
Gurdon crossed over to the other table, and took the box up in his hand.
He pulled the slide out and glanced at the contents with a puzzled
expression of face. Then he dropped the box again, and came back to
Venner with a look on his face as if he had been handling something
more than usually repulsive.
"You needn't tell me what it is," Venner said. "I know quite as well as
you do. Inside that box is a dried up piece of flesh, some three inches
long--in other words a mummified human forefinger."
CHAPTER III
THE LOST MINE
Gurdon nodded thoughtfully. He was trying to piece the puzzle
together in his mind, but so far without success. He was not in the least
surprised to find that Venner had guessed correctly.

"You've got it exactly," he said. "That is just what the gruesome thing
is. What does it all mean?"
By this time dinner had long been a thing of the past, and all the guests
had departed. Here and there the lights were turned down, leaving half
the room in semi-darkness. It was just the time and place for an
exchange of confidences.
"How did you know exactly what was in that box?" Gurdon asked. "I
have read things of this kind before, but they have generally taken the
form of a warning previous to some act of vengeance."
"As a matter of fact, this is something of the same kind," Venner said;
"though I am bound to say that my guess was somewhat in the nature of
a shot. Still, putting two and two together, I felt that I could not have
been far wrong. Since I have been here this evening, I have begun to
form a pretty shrewd opinion as to where Fenwick gets his money."
"What shall we do with that box?" Gurdon asked.
"Leave it where it is, by all means. You may depend upon it that
Fenwick will return for his lost property."
The prophecy came true quicker than Gurdon had expected, for out of
the gloom there presently emerged the yellow face of Mark Fenwick.
He came in with a furtive air, like some mean thief who is about to do a
shabby action. He was palpably looking for something. He made a
gesture of disappointment when he saw that the table where he had
dined was now stripped of everything except the flowers. He did not
seem to see the other two men there at all. Venner took the box from
his companion's hand, and advanced to Fenwick's side.
"I think you have lost something, sir," he said coolly. "Permit me to
restore your property to you."
The millionaire gave a kind of howl as he looked at Venner. The noise
he made was like that of a child suffering from toothache. He fairly
grovelled at Venner's feet, but as far as the latter's expression was

concerned, the two might have met for the first time. Just for a moment
Fenwick stood there, mopping his yellow face, himself a picture of
abject misery and despair.
"Well?" Venner said sharply. "Is this little box yours, or not?"
"Oh, yes, oh yes," Fenwick whined. "You know that perfectly well--I
mean, you must recognise--oh, I don't know what I mean. The fact is, I
am really ill to-night. I hardly know what I am doing. Thank you, very
much."
Fenwick snatched the box from Venner's fingers, and made hastily for
the door.
"I believe we are allowed to smoke in here after ten," Gurdon said. "If
that is the case, why not have a cigar together, and discuss the matter?
What I am anxious to know at present is the inner meaning of the finger
in the box."
There was