“Oh!” Archie jumped up with widely opened eyes.  “Then perhaps this solves the problem.  Bolton was murdered by some Peruvian Indian.”

Random shook his head gravely.

“Again you offer me a loophole of escape, my dear fellow,” he said sententiously, “but that theory will not hold water.  At present the Indians in Lima and Cuzco do not know that the mummy has been found.  Don Pedro only chanced upon the paper which announced the sale by accident and had no time to communicate with his barbaric friends in South America.  Failing to get the mummy from you, Professor, he would have returned to Peru and then would have told who possessed the corpse of Inca Caxas, leaving the Indians to deal with the matter.  In that case my warning to Bolton would be necessary.  But at the time I told him, it was not necessary.  However, Bolton remained true to you, Professor, and declined to surrender the mummy.  I therefore wired to Don Pedro at Genoa that the mummy was on board The Diver and was being sent to Gartley.  I also advised him to come to me here in order to be introduced to you.  The rest you know.”

There was a moment’s silence.  Then Archie, to test if Random was willing to admit everything—­as an innocent man certainly would—­asked significantly

“Did you see Bolton again after your interview on board ship?”

It was then that the baronet proved his good faith.

“Oh, yes,” he said easily and without hesitation.  “I was walking about Pierside later, and, passing along that waterside alley near the Sailor’s Rest, I saw a window on the ground floor open, and Bolton looking out across the river.  I stopped and asked him when he proposed to take the mummy to Gartley, and if it was on shore.  He admitted that it was in the hotel, but declined to say when he would send it on to you, Professor.  When he closed the window, I afterwards went into the hotel and had a drink in order to ask casually when Mr. Bolton intended to leave.  I gathered—­ not directly, of course, but in a roundabout way—­that he had arranged to go next morning and to send on his luggage.  Then I left and went to London.  In the course of time I returned here and learned of the murder and the disappearance of the corpse of Inca Caxas.  And now,” Random stood up, “having admitted all this, perhaps you will believe me to be innocent.”

“You have no idea who murdered Bolton and placed his body in the packing case?” asked Braddock, manifestly disappointed.

“’No.  No more than I have any idea of the person who placed the mummy case and its contents in Mrs. Jasher’s garden.”

“Oh, you know that!” said Archie quickly.

“Yes.  The news was all over the village this morning.  I could hardly help knowing it.  And I believe that the mummy has been taken to your house, Professor.”

“It has,” admitted Braddock dryly.  “I took it myself from Mrs. Jasher’s arbor in a hand-cart, with the assistance of Cockatoo.  But when I made an examination this morning in the presence of Hope and Don Pedro, I found that the swathings of the body had been ripped up, and that the emeralds mentioned in that manuscript had been stolen.”