ou a tip or two in the matter of detecting
crimes, if you pay attention to what he says."

Nippers "paid attention" forthwith. The idea of being in consultation
with any one connected with Scotland Yard tickled his very soul;
and, in fancy, he already saw his name getting into the newspapers
of London, and his fame spreading far beyond his native weald.

"I won't trouble you for the full details of the murder, Mr.
Nippers," said Cleek. "Those, I fancy, this Miss Renfrew will be
able to supply when I see her. For the present, tell me: how many
other occupants does the house hold beyond these two of whom you
have spoken--Miss Renfrew and the cook, Mrs. Armroyd?"

"None, sir, but the scullery maid, Emily, and the parlour maid,
Clark. But both of them is out to-night, sir--havin' went to a
concert over at Beattie Corners. A friend of Mistress Armroyd's sent
her two tickets, and her not bein' able to go herself, her thought
it a pity for 'em to be wasted, so her give 'em to the maids."

"I see, no male servants at all, then?"

"No, sir; not one. There's Jones--the handy man--as comes in mornin's
to do the rough work and the haulin' and carryin' and things
like that; and there's the gardener and Mr. Kemper--him as is Mr.
Nosworth's assistant in the laboratory, sir--but none of 'em is
ever in the house after five o'clock. Set against havin' men sleep
in the house was Mr. Nosworth--swore as never another should after
him and Master Harry had their fallin' out. Why, sir, he was
that bitter he'd never even allow Mr. Charles to set foot in the
place, just because him and Master Harry used to be friends--which
makes it precious hard on Miss Renfrew, I can tell you."

"As how? Is this 'Mr. Charles' connected with Miss Renfrew in any
way?"

"Lummy! yes, sir--he's her young man. Been sweet on each other
ever since they was in pinafores; but never had no chance to marry
because Mr. Charles--Mr. Charles Drummond is his full name, sir--he
hasn't one shillin' to rub against another, and Miss Renfrew she's a
little worse off than him. Never gets nothin', I'm told, for keepin'
house for her uncle--just her food and lodgin' and clothes--and
her slavin' like a nigger for him the whole blessed time. Keeps
his books and superintends the runnin' of the house, she do, but
never gets a brass farthin' for it, poor girl. I don't like to
speak ill of the dead, Mr. Headland, sir, but this I must say: A rare
old skinflint was Mr. Septimus Nosw