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.
