"What do you think of it, Professor" asked James Langley, at length."I've read somewhere of such cases, but to think of its actually happening--and to my own brother.Do you really think Lewis could have met his death in this terrible manner"Kennedy made no reply.Harrington seemed absorbed in thought.Ashudder passed over us as we thought about it.But, gruesome as it was, it was evident that the publication of the story in the Record had relieved the feelings of the family group in one respect--it at least seemed to offer an explanation.It was noticeable that the suspicious air with which everyone had regarded everyone else was considerably dispelled.
Tom said nothing until the others had withdrawn."Kennedy," he burst out, then, "do you believe that such combustion is absolutely spontaneous? Don't you believe that something else is necessary to start it?""I'd rather not express an opinion just yet, Tom," answered Craig carefully."Now, if you can get Harrington and Doctor Putnam away from the house for a short time, as you did with your uncle and cousin this morning, I may be able to tell you something about this case soon."Again Kennedy stole into another bed-room, and returned to our room with a hunting-jacket.Just as he had done before, he carefully washed it off with the gauze soaked in the salt solution and quickly returned the coat, repeating the process with Doctor Putnam's coat and, last, that of Tom himself.Finally he turned his back while I sealed the glasses and marked and recorded them on my slip.
The next day was spent mainly in preparations for the journey to New York with the body of Lewis Langley.Kennedy was very busy on what seemed to me to be preparations for some mysterious chemical experiments.I found myself fully occupied in keeping special correspondents from all over the country at bay.
That evening after dinner we were all sitting in the open summer house over the boat-house.Smudges of green pine were burning and smoking on little artificial islands of stone near the lake shore, lighting up the trees on every side with a red glare.Tom and his sister were seated with Kennedy and myself on one side, while some distance from us Harrington was engaged in earnest conversation with Isabelle.The other members of the family were further removed.That seemed typical to me of the way the family group split up.
"Mr.Kennedy," remarked Grace in a thoughtful, low tone, "what do you make of that Record article?""Very clever, no doubt," replied Craig.
"But don't you think it strange about the will?""Hush," whispered Tom, for Isabelle and Harrington had ceased talking and might perhaps be listening.
Just then one of the servants came up with a telegram.
Tom hastily opened it and read the message eagerly in the corner of the summer house nearest one of the glowing smudges.I felt instinctively that it was from his lawyer.He turned and beckoned to Kennedy and myself.
"What do you think of that" he whispered hoarsely.
We bent over and in the flickering light read the message:
New York papers full of spontaneous combustion story.Record had exclusive story yesterday, but all papers to-day feature even more.Is it true? Please wire additional details at once.Also immediate instructions regarding loss of will.Has been abstracted from safe.Could Lewis Langley have taken it himself?
Unless new facts soon must make loss public or issue statement Lewis Langley intestate.
DANIEL CLARK
Tom looked blankly at Kennedy, and then at his sister, who was sitting alone.I thought I could read what was passing in his mind.With all his faults Lewis Langley had been a good foster-parent to his adopted children.But it was all over now if the will was lost.
"What can I do?" asked Tom hopelessly."I have nothing to reply to him.""But I have," quietly returned Kennedy, deliberately folding up the message and handing it back."Tell them all to be in the library in fifteen minutes.This message hurries me a bit, but Iam prepared.You will have something to wire Mr.Clark after that." Then he strode off toward the house, leaving us to gather the group together in considerable bewilderment.
A quarter of an hour later we had all assembled in the library, across the hall from the room in which Lewis Langley had been found.As usual Kennedy began by leaping straight into the middle of his subject.
"Early in the eighteenth century;" he commenced slowly, "a woman was found burned to death.There were no clues, and the scientists of that time suggested spontaneous combustion.This explanation was accepted.The theory always has been that the process of respiration by which the tissues of the body are used up and got rid of gives the body a temperature, and it has seemed that it may be possible, by preventing the escape of this heat, to set fire to the body."We were leaning forward expectantly, horrified by the thought that perhaps, after all, the Record was correct.
"Now," resumed Kennedy, his tone changing, "suppose we try a little experiment--one that was tried very convincingly by the immortal Liebig.Here is a sponge.I am going to soak it in gin from this bottle, the same that Mr.Langley was drinking from on the night of the--er--the tragedy."Kennedy took the saturated sponge and placed it in an agate-iron pan from the kitchen.Then he lighted it.The bluish flame shot upward, and in tense silence we watched it burn lower and lower, till all the alcohol was consumed.Then he picked up the sponge and passed it around.It was dry, but the sponge itself had not been singed.
