pipe from his tobacco-pouch. Now his pouch contains shag; but the pipe in his pocket contains hard cut."
"Is there no cake tobacco in any of the pockets?"
"Not a fragment. Of course, it is possible that he might have had a piece and used it up to fill the pipe; but there is no trace of any on the blade of his pocket-knife, and you know how this juicy black cake stains a knife-blade. His sheath-knife is missing, but he would hardly have used that to shred tobacco when he had a pocket-knife."
"No," assented the captain; "but are you sure he hadn't a second pipe?"
"There was only one pipe," replied Thorndyke, "and that was not his own."
"Not his own!" exclaimed the captain, halting by a huge, chequered buoy, to stare at my colleague; "how do you know it was not his own?"
"By the appearance of the vulcanite mouthpiece," said Thorndyke. "It showed deep tooth-marks; in fact, it was nearly bitten through. Now a man who bites through his pipe usually presents certain definite physical peculiarities, among which is, necessarily, a fairly good set of teeth. But the dead man had not a tooth in his head."
The captain cogitated a while, and then remarked: "I don't quite see the bearing of this."
