"That's where Surbonadier got the cartridges," he said. "It's empty. Bailey had better get to work on it, but he'll only find stage hands' prints and Surbonadier's, I expect. Now then."

Using the very greatest care to avoid touching the surface, Alleyn next drew out the second drawer with the point of his blade.

"And here we are," he said brightly.

The others bent forward. Lying in the drawer were six cartridges.

"By gum," said Fox, "you've got 'em."

With one accord he and Nigel turned to look at the property master. He was standing in his ridiculous posture of attention, staring, as usual, above their heads. Alleyn, still bent over the drawer, addressed him mildly.

"Look into that drawer. Don't touch anything. Are those the dummies you made?"

Props craned his long neck and bent forward stiffly.

"Well?"

"Yessir."

"Yes. And there—look—is the loose one. There is a grain or two of sand fallen out. You made a job of them. Why didn't you want me to find them?"

Props gave another exhibition of masterly silence.

"You bore me," said Alleyn. "And you behave oddly, and rather like an ass. You knew those dummies were in the drawer; you heard me say I was going to look for them. You were listening up there in the dark. So you cheerfully dropped half a ton of candelabrum on the stage, first warning us of its arrival, as apparently you weren't keen on staging another murder to-night. I suppose you hoped for a scene of general confusion, during which you would shin down the ladder and remove the dummies. It was a ridiculous manoeuvre. The obvious inference is that you dumped the darn' things there yourself, and took to the rigging when the murder came off."

"That's right, sir," said Props surprisingly. "It looks that way, but I never."

"You are, as I have said, an ass; and I'm not sure I oughtn't to arrest you as a something-or-other after the fact."

"My Gawd, I never done it, sir!"

"I'm delighted to hear you say so. Why, then, should you wish to shield the murderer? Oh, well, if you won't answer me, you won't; and I refuse to go on giving an imitation of a gentleman talking to himself. I shall have to detain you in a police station, Props."

A kind of tremor seemed to shake the man. His arms twitched convulsively and his eyes widened. Nigel, who was not familiar with the after-effects of shell-shock, watched him with reluctant curiosity. Alleyn looked at him attentively.

"Well?" he said.

"I never done it," said Props in a breathless whisper. "I never done it. You don't want to lock me up. I was standing in the prompt box and if I thought I seen a bloke or it might have been a woman, moving round in the dark—" He stopped short.

"You'd much better say so," said Alleyn.