dinary sense, Mr. Smeaton," I made shift to
get out. "But it is business for all that. The fact is--you'll remember
that the Berwick police sent you a telegram some days ago asking did you
know anything about a man named John Phillips?"

He showed a sudden interest at that, and he regarded me with a
slight smile.

"You aren't a detective?" he inquired.

"No--I'm a solicitor's clerk," I replied. "From Berwick--my principal,
Mr. Lindsey, has to do with that case."

He nodded at a pile of newspapers, which stood, with a heavy book on top
of it, on a side table near his desk.

"So I see from these papers," he remarked. "I've read all I could about
the affairs of both Phillips and Crone, ever since I heard that my name
and address had been found on Phillips. Has any further light been
thrown on that? Of course, there was nothing much in my name and address
being found on the man, nor would there be if they were found on any
man. As you see, I'm a general agent for various sorts of foreign
merchandise, and this man had likely been recommended to me--especially
if he was from America."

"There's been no further light on that matter, Mr. Smeaton," I
answered. He had pointed me to a chair at his desk side by that time,
and we were mutually inspecting each other. "Nothing more has been
heard on that point."

"Then--have you come purposely to see me about it?" he asked.

"Not at all!" said I. "I was passing along this street below, and I saw
your name on the door, and I remembered it--and so I just came up."

"Oh!" he said, looking at me rather blankly. "You're staying in
Dundee--taking a holiday?"

"I came to Dundee in a fashion I'd not like to follow on any other
occasion!" said I. "If a man hadn't lent me this suit of clothes and a
sovereign, I'd have come ashore in my undergarments and without a penny."

He stared at me more blankly than ever when I let this out on him, and
suddenly he laughed.

"What riddle's all this?" he asked. "It sounds like a piece out of a
story-book--one of those tales of adventure."

"Aye, does it?" said I. "Only, in my case, Mr. Smeaton, fact's been a lot
stranger than fiction! You've read all about this Berwick mystery in the
newspapers?"

"Every word--seeing that I was mentioned," he answered.

"Then I'll give you the latest chapter," I continued. "You'll know my
name when you hear it--Hugh Moneylaws. It was I discovered Phillips's
dead body."

I saw that he had been getting mo