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"Here they are," said Mr. Waring, strik ing a light. "You take one, and I'll take the other; they're pretty heavy, and you must be careful how you handle them, or some of the things might break." When they got to the curb of the pave ment, Mr. Waring said, "Stop here, and I'll fetch a four-wheeler." While James was waiting a strange curi osity to look into the parcels came over him; so strange that it was irresistible, and ac cordingly he undid the end of one of them. Imagine the youth's horror when he was confronted with a human head that had been chopped off at the shoulders! "My hair stood on end," said the witness, "and my hat fell off." But his presence of mind never forsook him. He covered the ghastly "relic of mortality" up and stood like a statue waiting Mr. Waring's return with his cab. "Jump in, James," said he, after they had put the "samples" on the top of the cab. But James was not in the humor to get into the cab. He preferred running behind. So he ran behind all along Whitechapel Road, over London Bridge, and away down Old Kent Road, shouting to every policeman he saw to stop the cab, but no policeman took any notice of him except to laugh at him for a lunatic. The "Force" does not disturb its serenity of mind for trifles. By and by the cab drew up in a back street in front of an empty house, which turned out to be in the possession of Mr. Waring's brother; a house built in a part of Old Lon don with labyrinths of arches, vaults, and cel lars in the occupation of rats and other ver min. James came up panting just as his old master had taken his first packet of samples into the house. He had managed somehow or other to get a policeman to listen to him. The policeman, when Mr. Waring was tak ing in the second parcel, 'boldly asked him what he'd got there.

"Nothing for you," said Mr. Waring. "I don't know about that," replied the po liceman; "let's have a look." Here Mr. Waring lost his presence of mind, and offered the policeman and another member of the Force who had strolled up a hundred pounds not to look at the parcels. But the Force was not to be tampered with. They pushed Mr. Waring inside the house, and then discovered the ghastly con tents of the huge bundles. The policemen's suspicions were now aroused, and they pro ceeded to the police station, where the divi sional surgeon pronounced the remains to be those of a young woman who had been dead for a considerable time and buried in chloride of lime. Of course this was no proof of murder, and the charge of murder against Waring was not made until a considerable time after —not until the old father had declared time after time that the remains were those of his daughter Harriet. At length the Treasury became so im pressed with the old man's statement that the officials began to think it might be a case of murder after all, especially as there were two bullet-wounds at the back of the wo man's head, and her throat had been cut. There was also some proof that she had been buried under the 'floor of Mr. Waring's warehouse, some hair being found in the grave, and a 'button or two from the younig woman's jacket. All these things tended to awaken the sus picion of the Treasury officials. Of course there was a suggestion that it was a case of suicide, but the Lord Chief Justice disposed of that later on at the trial by asking how a woman could shoot herself twice in the back of the head, cut her throat, bury herself under the floor, and nail the boards down over her grave. Notwithstanding it was clear that no charge of murder could be proved without identification, the Treasury boldly made a