bably was going to the corner grocery on Fifteenth.

"I've been neglecting friend Hull," he murmured to himself. "I reckon
I'll just drop in an' ask him how his health is."

He was not sorry that Mrs. Hull was out. She was easily, he judged,
the dominant member of the firm. If he could catch the fat man alone
he might gather something of importance.

Hull opened the door of the apartment to his knock. He stood glaring
at the young man, his prominent eyes projecting, the red capillaries in
his beefy face filling.

"Whadjawant?" he demanded.

"A few words with you, Mr. Hull." Kirby pushed past him into the room,
much as an impudent agent does.

"Well, I don't aim to have no truck with you at all," blustered the fat
man. "You've just naturally wore out yore welcome with me before ever
you set down. I'll ask you to go right now."

"Here's your hat. What's your hurry?" murmured Kirby, by way of
quotation. "Sure I'll go. But don't get on the prod, Hull. I came to
make some remarks an' to ask a question. I'll not hurt you any.
Haven't got smallpox or anything."

"I don't want you here. If the police knew you was here, they'd be
liable to think we was talkin' about--about what happened upstairs."

"Then they would be right. That's exactly what we're gonna talk about."

"No, sir! I ain't got a word to say--not a word!" The big man showed
signs of panic.

"Then I'll say it." The dancing light died out of Kirby's eyes. They
became hard and steady as agates. "Who killed Cunningham, Hull?"

The fishy eyes of the man dodged. A startled oath escaped him. "How
do I know?"

"Didn't you kill him?"

"Goddlemighty, no!" Hull dragged out the red bandanna and gave his
apoplectic face first aid. He mopped perspiration from the overlapping
roll of fat above his collar. "I dunno a thing about it. Honest, I
don't. You got no right to talk to me thataway."

"You're a tub of iniquity, Hull. Also, you're a right poor liar. You
know a lot about it. You were in my uncle's rooms just before I saw
you on the night of his death. You were seen there."

"W-w-who says so?" quavered the wretched man.

"You'll know who at the proper time. I'll tell you one thing. It
won't look good for you that you held out all you know till it was a
showdown."

"I ain't holdin' out, I tell you. What business you got to come here
devilin' me, I'd like for to know?"

"I'm not devilin' you. I'm tellin' you to come throu