the trouble of attending to the business of the funeral,
and that Crass, as a close friend of the dead man, and a fellow member
of the society, was the most suitable person to take charge of the
business for her. He was already slightly acquainted with the old
lady, so he would go to see her at once and get her authority to act on
her behalf. Of course, they would not be able to do much until after
the inquest, but they could get the coffin made--as Hunter knew the
mortuary keeper there would be no difficulty about getting in for a
minute to measure the corpse.

This matter having been arranged, Hunter departed to order a new rope,
and shortly afterwards Crass--having made sure that everyone would have
plenty to do while he was gone--quietly slipped away to go to see
Philpot's landlady. He went off so secretly that the men did not know
that he had been away at all until they saw him come back just before
twelve o'clock.

The new rope was brought to the house about one o'clock and this time
the ladder was raised without any mishap. Harlow was put on to paint
the gable, and he felt so nervous that he was allowed to have Sawkins
to stand by and hold the ladder all the time. Everyone felt nervous
that afternoon, and they all went about their work in an unusually
careful manner.

When Bert had finished limewashing the cellar, Crass set him to work
outside, painting the gate of the side entrance. While the boy was
thus occupied he was accosted by a solemn-looking man who asked him
about the accident. The solemn stranger was very sympathetic and
inquired what was the name of the man who had been killed, and whether
he was married. Bert informed him that Philpot was a widower, and that
he had no children.

'Ah, well, that's so much the better, isn't it?' said the stranger
shaking his head mournfully. 'It's a dreadful thing, you know, when
there's children left unprovided for. You don't happen to know where
he lived, do you?'

'Yes,' said Bert, mentioning the address and beginning to wonder what
the solemn man wanted to know for, and why he appeared to be so sorry
for Philpot since it was quite evident that he had never known him.

'Thanks very much,' said the man, pulling out his pocket-book and
making a note of it. 'Thanks very much indeed. Good afternoon,' and
he hurried off.

'Good afternoon, sir,' said Bert and he turned to resume his work.
Crass came along the garden just as the mysterious stranger wa