iend to have!--told me that Lester Stark,
Merriton, and a little man called West were bosom friends and
club-mates."

"Then perhaps the man Stark killed him, after all?" threw in Mr. Narkom
at this juncture, and there was a tinge of eagerness in his excited
tones, which made Cleek whirl round upon him and say, accusingly, "Old
friend, Merriton has won your heart as he has won others'. You're dead
nuts on the youngster, and I must say he does seem such a clean, honest,
upstanding young fellow. But you're ready to convict any one of the
murder of Dacre Wynne but Merriton himself. Own up now; you've a sneaking
regard for the fellow!"

Mr. Narkom reddened.

"Well, if you want the truth of it--I have!" he said, finally, in an
"I-don't-care-what-the-devil-you-think" sort of voice. "He's exactly the
kind of chap I'd like for a son of my own, and--and--dash it! I don't
like seeing him in the lock-up; and that's the long and short of it!"

"So long as it's only the long and short, and not the end of it, it
doesn't greatly matter," returned Cleek. "Hello! Is that you, Dollops?"

"Yessir."

"Any news for me? Found that chap with the straggling black moustache
that tried to do me in the other night? I've not a doubt that you've
discovered the answer to the whole riddle, by the look upon your face."

Dollops cautiously approached, looking over his shoulder as though he
expected any minute that the cadaverous face of Borkins would peer in at
him, or that perhaps Dacre Wynne himself would rise from the dead and
shake an accusing finger in his face. He reached Cleek and laid a timid
hand upon the detective's arm. Then he bent his face close to Cleek's
ear.

"Well, I've an inklin' that I'm well on to the untyin' of it, s'help me
if I ain't!" he whispered in highly melodramatic tones.

Cleek laughed, but looked interested at once, while Mr. Narkom prepared
to give his best attention to what the lad had to say.

"Traced the blighter wiv the straggling whiskers on 'is lip, anyway!" he
said, triumphantly, casting still another glance over his shoulder in the
direction of the door, and lowering his tones still further. "Caught a
glimpse of 'im 'long by the Saltfleet Road this afternoon, Guv'nor, and
thinks I to myself, 'You're the blinkin' blighter wot tried to do the
Guv'nor in, are you? Well, you wait, my lad! There's a little taste of
'ell-sauce a-comin' your way wot'll make you sit up and bawl for yer
muvver.' He'd got on sai