He went to a cupboard and brought forth a box of Trichinopoly cheroots. Now the Trichinopoly cheroot was Thorndyke's one dissipation, to be enjoyed only on rare and specially festive occasions; which, in practice, meant those occasions on which he had scored some important point or solved some unusually tough problem. Wherefore I watched him with lively interest.
"It's a pity that the 'Trichy' is such a poisonous beast," he remarked, taking up one of the cheroots and sniffing at it delicately. "There is no other cigar like it, to a really abandoned smoker." He laid the cigar back in the box and continued: "I think I shall treat myself to one after dinner to celebrate the occasion."
"What occasion?" I asked.
"The completion of the Blackmore case. I am just going to write to Marchmont advising him to enter a caveat."
"Do you mean to say that you have discovered a flaw in the will, after all?"
"A flaw!" he exclaimed. "My dear Jervis, that second will is a forgery."
I stared at him in amazement; for his assertion sounded like nothing more or less than arrant nonsense.
"But the thing is impossible, Thorndyke," I said. "Not only did the witnesses recognize their own signatures and the painter's greasy finger-marks, but they had both read the will and remembered its contents."
"Yes; that is the interesting feature in the
