Tales of Terror and Mystery

The Leather Funnel

           Thebrassrimencircledthewideend,butthenarrowwasalsotippedwithmetal.

           "Whatdoyoumakeofit?"askedDacre.

           "IshouldimaginethatitbelongedtosomevintnerormaltsterintheMiddleAges,"saidI."IhaveseeninEnglandleatherndrinkingflagonsoftheseventeenthcentury—’blackjacks’astheywerecalled—whichwereofthesamecolourandhardnessasthisfiller."

           "Idaresaythedatewouldbeaboutthesame,"saidDacre,"and,nodoubt,also,itwasusedforfillingavesselwithliquid.Ifmysuspicionsarecorrect,however,itwasaqueervintnerwhousedit,andaverysingularcaskwhichwasfilled.Doyouobservenothingstrangeatthespoutendofthefunnel."

           AsIheldittothelightIobservedthatataspotsomefiveinchesabovethebrasstipthenarrowneckoftheleatherfunnelwasallhaggledandscored,asifsomeonehadnotcheditroundwithabluntknife.Onlyatthatpointwasthereanyrougheningofthedeadblacksurface.

           "Someonehastriedtocutofftheneck."

           "Wouldyoucallitacut?"

           "Itistornandlacerated.Itmusthavetakensomestrengthtoleavethesemarksonsuchtoughmaterial,whatevertheinstrumentmayhavebeen.Butwhatdoyouthinkofit?Icantellthatyouknowmorethanyousay."

           Dacresmiled,andhislittleeyestwinkledwithknowledge.

           "Haveyouincludedthepsychologyofdreamsamongyourlearnedstudies?"heasked.

           "Ididnotevenknowthattherewassuchapsychology."

           "Mydearsir,thatshelfabovethegemcaseisfilledwithvolumes,fromAlbertusMagnusonward,whichdealwithnoothersubject.Itisascienceinitself.

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