The Borough Treasurer

ho had just spoken and the man to whom he spoke. But all his attention was quickly concentrated on Cotherstone. For despite a strong effort to control himself, Cotherstone swayed a little, and i

Who should want to kill an old chap like that? It's-he

ust mixed, and Cotherstone gulped off half i

he muttered. "Overwork, likely-I've been

at the effect of his news. "I ought to have known

Cotherstone. "You did the right thing. Here!-w

r garden," answered Garthwaite. "He was just lockin

. He looked round at his gue

" urged Lettie, "if yo

Now that I know what's to be faced-" he twisted suddenly on Garthwaite-"w

tie, who was whispering t

de," he said. "I don't want

t lantern out of the kitchen," he called to the parlourmaid. "Light it! Don't you be afraid, Lettie,"

maid came with the lantern, all four men went out. And as soo

murdered?" he asked.

struck my foot against something-something soft, you know-I don't like thinking of that! And so I struck a match, and looked, and saw this old fellow-don't like thinking of that, either. He w

d!" excla

at tight that I couldn't put my little finger between it and him! But you'll see f

Cotherstone. "If it's as you s

n the thick of the firs and pines which grew along the steep, somewhat

he said. "I don't know

e a lawyer, aren't you?" he asked. "I heard that Mr. Bent had a lawyer friend stopping with him just now-we hear

d that?" sa

cheek were-just warm. He couldn't have been dead

masses of limestone which cropped out amongst the tree

id in a hushed

o see. It needed no more than a glance to assure each that he was looking on d

this rock from there, d'ye see, and my foot knocked against hi

p to the edge of the rock. And now, as Garthwaite turned the lantern, they saw that on this soft carpet there was a great slur-the murderer had evidently dragged his victim some yards across the pine needles before depositing him b

must have been walking along that path, and whoever did it must have sprung out on him there-where all

. Then followed a murmur of voices, and three or four men came into view-policemen, carrying their

lted irresolutely. "This way, doctor-there's work f

lie who had been unceremoniously thrown down. But Brereton's sharp eyes saw at once that after he had been flung at the foot of the mass of rock some hand had disarranged his clothing. His overcoat and under coat had been torn open, hasti

quarters of an hour. Strangled? Yes!-and by somebody who has more than ordinary knowledge of

showed the others how the cord had been slipped round the nec

ike that, would have a chance-however free his hands might be. He'd be dead before he could struggle. Does no one know anything about this? No mo

een robbed?" said Brereton, pointing to the obviou

tor was examining it. "There's one of his pockets turned inside out, and all his clothing'

pped back and began to search the surroundings with the

oot of a pine-tree and picking up a dark objec

seen it before. He used to carry it in an

the book over to his sergeant, and proceeding to search f

pine-needle stuff-naught to go by, anyway-it's too thick and soft. But he must have come alo

d a word or two with the ser

the top of the Shawl here. Well, we'd better have the body

but a housekeeper-Miss Pett. She's an elderly woman-an

he trees and up the wood. "This is a strange affair!" he continued when they were clear of the others.

erally helpless, even if, as the doctor said, he had the use of his hands. He'd be unconscious almost at once-dead very soon afterwards. Murder?-I should think so!-and a particularly brutal and determined one. Ben

y India?"

ots," answered Brereton. "That murder's suggestive of Thuggeeism in some respects. That the cottage?" he we

he wood and entered a hedge-enclosed garden at the end of which stood an old-fashioned cott

ent, out of which shone a pair of bright black eyes; the oddity of her appearance was heightened by her head-dress-a glaring red and yellow handkerchief tightly folded in such a fashion as to cover any vestige of hair. Her arms, bare to the elbow, and her hands were as gaunt as her face, but Brereton was quick t

ld speak. "Mr. Kitely's gone out for his regular bedtime constitution-he will

news in Bent's face, and her own

ht that's serious? You needn't be afraid to speak, Mr. Bent-there's

a moment, and seeing that she understood, went on. "They're bringing him up, Miss Pett-you'd be

itors; then, nodding her turbaned h

red. "I warned him-more than once

d met the others, carrying the dead man. Cotherstone followed behind the pol

hispered. "A clue, d'y