became their theories. Some suggested that the gipsies
camped on Southberry Heath, who were continually fighting amongst
themselves, had killed the miserable creature; others, asserting that
the scamp was desperately poor, hinted at suicide induced by sheer
despair; but the most generally accepted opinion was that Jentham had
been killed in some drunken frolic by one or more Irish harvesters. The
Beorminster reporters visited the police station and endeavoured to
learn what Inspector Tinkler thought. He had seen the body, he had
viewed the spot where it had been found, he had examined the carter,
Giles Crake, so he was the man most likely to give satisfactory answers
to the questions as to who had killed the man, and why he had been shot.
But Inspector Tinkler was the most wary of officials, and pending the
inquest and the verdict of twelve good men and true, he declined to
commit himself to an opinion. The result of this reticence was that the
reporters had to fall back on their inventive faculties, and next
morning published three theories, side by side, concerning the murder,
so that the _Beorminster Chronicle_ containing these suppositions proved
to be as interesting as a police novel, and quite as unreliable. But it
amused its readers and sold largely, therefore proprietor and editor
were quite satisfied that fiction was as good as fact to tickle the long
ears of a credulous public.

As the dead man had lodged at The Derby Winner, and many people had
known him there, quite a sensation was caused by the report of his
untimely end. From morning till night the public-house was thronged with
customers, thirsting both for news and beer. Nevertheless, although
business was so brisk, Mosk was by no means in a good temper. He had
returned early that morning from Southberry, and had been one of the
first to hear about the matter. When he heard who had been killed, he
regarded the committal of the crime quite in a personal light, for the
dead man owed him money, and his death had discharged the debt in a way
of which Mr Mosk did not approve. He frequently referred to his loss
during the day, when congratulated by unthinking customers on the
excellent trade the assassination had brought about.

'For, as I allays ses,' remarked one wiseacre, 'it's an ill wind as
don't blow good to somebody.'

'Yah!' growled Mosk, in his beery voice, 'it's about as broad as it's
long so far as I'm concerned. I've lost a couple of quid through