entered the room and
gazed eagerly at the half-insensible man on the floor-a short, thick-set
fellow with a white, dirty face and a black moustache. His lip was cut
and bled down his neck. Burleigh glanced furtively at the table. The
cloth had come off in the struggle, and was now in the place where he had
left Fletcher.

"Hot work, sir," said the sergeant, with a smile. "It's fortunate we
were handy."

The prisoner raised a heavy head and looked up with unmistakable terror
in his eyes.

"All right, sir," he said, trembling, as the constable increased the
pressure of his knee. "I 'ain't been in the house ten minutes
altogether. By ---, I've not."

The sergeant regarded him curiously.

"It don't signify," he said, slowly; "ten minutes or ten seconds won't
make any difference."

The man shook and began to whimper.

"It was 'ere when I come," he said, eagerly; "take that down, sir. I've
only just come, and it was 'ere when I come. I tried to get away then,
but I was locked in."

"What was?" demanded the sergeant.

"That," he said, desperately.

The sergeant, following the direction of the terror-stricken black eyes,
stooped by the table. Then, with a sharp exclamation, he dragged away
the cloth. Burleigh, with a sharp cry of horror, reeled back against the
wall.

"All right, sir," said the sergeant, catching him; "all right. Turn your
head away."

He pushed him into a chair, and crossing the room, poured out a glass of
whiskey and brought it to him. The glass rattled against his teeth, but
he drank it greedily, and then groaned faintly. The sergeant waited
patiently. There was no hurry.

"Who is it, sir?" he asked at length.

"My friend--Fletcher," said Burleigh, with an effort. "We lived
together." He turned to the prisoner.

"You damned villain!"

"He was dead when I come in the room, gentlemen," said the prisoner,
strenuously. "He was on the floor dead, and when I see 'im, I tried to
get out. S' 'elp me he was. You heard me call out, sir. I shouldn't
ha' called out if I'd killed him."

"All right," said the sergeant, gruffly; "you'd better hold your tongue,
you know."

"You keep quiet," urged the constable.

The sergeant knelt down and raised the dead man's head.

"I 'ad nothing to do with it," repeated the man on the floor. "I 'ad
nothing to do with it. I never thought of such a thing. I've only been
in the place ten minutes; put that down, sir."

The sergeant gro