hammers of
them guns, you two--put 'em down quick! It's Mr. Narkom--Mr. Maverick
Narkom, superintendent at Scotland Yard!"

"Hullo!" exclaimed Mr. Narkom, shading his eyes from the firelight
and leaning forward to get a clearer view of the speaker. "How the
dickens do you know that, my man? And who the dickens are you,
anyway? Can't say that I remember ever seeing your face before."

Mr. Nippers hastened to explain that little experience of five years
ago; but the circumstance which had impressed itself so deeply upon
his memory had passed entirely out of the superintendent's.

"Oh, that's it, is it?" said he. "Can't say that I recall the
occasion; but Mrs. Narkom certainly did stop at Winton-Old-Bridges
some four or five summers ago, so of course it's possible. By the
way, my man, what caused you to make this sudden descent upon us? And
what are these chaps who are with you bearing arms for? Anything up?"

"Oh, lummy, sir, yes! A murder's just been committed--leastwise it's
only just been discovered; but it can't have been long since it _was_
committed, Mr. Narkom, for Miss Renfrew, who found him, sir, and
give the alarm, she says as the poor dear gentleman was alive at a
quarter to eight, 'cause she looked into the room at that time to
ask him if there was anything he wanted, and he spoke up and told
her no, and went on with his figgerin' just the same as usual."

"As usual?" said Cleek. "Why do you say 'as usual,' my friend? Was
the man an accountant of some sort?"

"Lummy! no, sir. A great inventor is what he is--or was, poor
gentleman. Reckon you must 'a' heard of un some time or another--most
everybody has. Nosworth is the name, sir--Mr. Septimus Nosworth of
the Round House. You could see the tower of it over yon if you
was to step out into the road and get clear of these trees."

Cleek was on his feet like a flash.

"Not the great Septimus Nosworth?" he questioned eagerly. "Not
the man who invented Lithamite?--the greatest authority on high
explosives in England? Not that Septimus Nosworth, surely?"

"Aye--him's the one, poor gentleman. I thought it like as the name
would be familiar, sir. A goodish few have heard of un, one way and
another."

"Yes," acquiesced Cleek. "Lithamite carried his name from one end
of the globe to the other; and his family affairs came into unusual
prominence in consequence. Widower, wasn't he?--hard as nails and
bitter as gall. Had an only son, hadn't he?--a wild young bla