dn't predeceased old Sir Alexander. What would he be doing now, a
friend of Gilverthwaite's?"

"I've heard that this Mr. Michael Carstairs went abroad as a young man,
Mr. Lindsey, and never came home again," I remarked. "Likely he
foregathered with Gilverthwaite out yonder."

"Just that," he agreed. "That would be the way of it, no doubt. To be
sure! He's set down in this attestation clause as Michael Carstairs,
engineer, American Quarter, Colon; and John Phillips is described as
sub-contractor, of the same address. The three of 'em'll have been
working in connection with the Panama Canal. But--God bless us!--there's
some queer facts coming out, my lad! Michael Carstairs knows
Gilverthwaite and Phillips in yon corner of the world--Phillips and
Gilverthwaite, when Michael Carstairs is dead, come home to the corner of
the world that Michael Carstairs sprang from. And Phillips is murdered as
soon as he gets here--and Gilverthwaite dies that suddenly that he can't
tell us a word of what it's all about! What is it all about--and who's
going to piece it all together? Man!--there's more than murder at the
bottom of all this!"

It's a wonder that I didn't let out everything that I knew at that
minute. And it may have been on the tip of my tongue, but just then he
gave me a push towards our door.

"I heard your mother say your dinner was waiting you," he said. "Go in,
now; we'll talk more this afternoon."

He strode off up the street, and I turned back and made haste with my
dinner. I wanted to drop in at Crone's before I went again to the office:
what had just happened, had made me resolved that Crone and I should
speak out; and if he wouldn't, then I would. And presently I was hurrying
away to his place, and as I turned into the back lane that led to it I
ran up against Sergeant Chisholm.

"Here's another fine to-do, Mr. Moneylaws!" said he. "You'll know yon
Abel Crone, the marine-store dealer? Aye, well, he's been found drowned,
not an hour ago, and by this and that, there's queer marks, that looks
like violence, on him!"

CHAPTER XII

THE SALMON GAFF

I gave such a jump on hearing this that Chisholm himself started, and
he stared at me with a question in his eyes. But I was quick enough to
let him know that he was giving me news that I hadn't heard until he
opened his lips.

"You don't tell me that!" I exclaimed. "What!--more of it?"

"Aye!" he said. "You'll be thinking that this is all of a piece with