



Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Mary Meehan and the Online
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                         THE CRIME DOCTOR

                      _By_ ERNEST W. HORNUNG

Author of Raffles, The Amateur Cracksman, The Thousandth Woman, etc.


    _With Illustrations by_
    FREDERIC DORR STEELE

    INDIANAPOLIS
    THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY
    PUBLISHERS

    COPYRIGHT 1914
    THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY

    PRESS OF
    BRAUNWORTH & CO.
    BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS
    BROOKLYN, N. Y.




[Illustration: "It was struck with--this"]




CONTENTS


       I THE PHYSICIAN WHO HEALED HIMSELF         1

      II THE LIFE-PRESERVER                      40

     III A HOPELESS CASE                         77

      IV THE GOLDEN KEY                         118

       V A SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD                  159

      VI ONE POSSESSED                          199

     VII THE DOCTOR'S ASSISTANT                 237

    VIII THE SECOND MURDERER                    272




THE CRIME DOCTOR




I

THE PHYSICIAN WHO HEALED HIMSELF


In the course of his meteoric career as Secretary of State for the Home
Department, the Right Honorable Topham Vinson instituted many reforms
and earned the reformer's whack of praise and blame. His methods were
not those of the permanent staff; and while his notorious courage
endeared him to the young, it was not in so strong a nature to leave
friend or foe lukewarm. An assiduous contempt for tradition fanned the
flame of either faction, besides leading to several of those personal
adventures which were as breath to the Minister's unregenerate nostrils,
but which never came out without exposing him to almost universal
censure. It is matter for thanksgiving that the majority of his
indiscretions were unguessed while he and his held office; for he was
never so unconventional as in pursuance of those enlightened tactics on
which his reputation rests, or in the company of that kindred spirit who
had so much to do with their inception.

It was early in an autumn session that this remarkable pair became
acquainted. Mr. Vinson had been tempted by the mildness of the night to
walk back from Westminster to Portman Square. He had just reached home
when he heard his name cried from some little distance behind him. The
voice tempered hoarse excitement with the restraint due to midnight in a
quiet square; and as Mr. Vinson turned on his door-step, a young man
rushed across the road with a gold chain swinging from his outstretched
hand.

"Your watch, sir, your watch!" he gasped, and displayed a bulbous hunter
with a monogram on one side and the crest of all the Vinsons on the
other.

"Heavens!" cried the Home Secretary, feeling in an empty waistcoat
pocket before he could believe his eyes. "Where on earth did you find
that? I had it on me when I left the House."

"It wasn't a case of findings," said the young man, as he fanned himself
with his opera hat. "I've just taken it from the fellow who took it from
you."

"Who? Where?" demanded the Secretary of State, with unstatesmanlike
excitement.

"Some poor brute in North Audley Street, I think it was."

"That's it! That was where he stopped me, just at the corner of
Grosvenor Square!" exclaimed Vinson. "And I went and gave the old
scoundrel half-a-crown!"

"He probably had your watch while you were looking in your purse."

And the young man dabbed a very good forehead, that glistened in the
light from the open door, with a white silk handkerchief just extracted
from his sleeve.

"But where were you?" asked Topham Vinson, taking in every inch of him.

"I'd just come into the square myself. You had just gone out of it. The
pickpocket was looking to see what he'd got, even while he hurled his
blessings after you."

"And where is he now? Did he slip through your fingers?"

"I'm ashamed to say he did; but your watch didn't!" its owner was
reminded with more spirit. "I could guess whose it was by the crest and
monogram, and I decided to make sure instead of giving chase."

"You did admirably," declared the Home Secretary, in belated
appreciation. "I'm in the papers quite enough without appearing as a mug
out of office hours. Come in, please, and let me thank you with all the
honors possible at this time of night."

And, taking him by the arm, he ushered the savior of his property into a
charming inner hall, where elaborate refreshments stood in readiness on
a side-table, and a bright fire looked as acceptable as the saddlebag
chairs drawn up beside it. A bottle and a pint of reputable champagne
had been left out