not to liquor. "'Avin' bin beguiled by that serping in light
clothes as wanted to know if 'e allays come 'ome afore twelve, which I
said 'e was in the 'abit of doin', tho', to be sure, 'e did sometimes
use 'is latch-key."

"The night of the murder, for instance."

"Oh! don't say that, sir," said Mrs. Sampson, with a terrified crackle.
"Me bein' weak an' ailin', tho' comin' of a strong family, as allays
lived to a good age, thro' bein' in the 'abit of wearin' flannels,
which my mother's father thought better nor a-spilin' the inside with
chemistry."

"Clever man, that detective," murmured Calton to himself. "He got out
of her by strategy what he never would have done by force. It's a
strong piece of evidence against Fitzgerald, but it does not matter
much if he can prove an ALIBI. You'll likely be called as a witness for
the prosecution," he said aloud.

"Me, sir!" squeaked Mrs. Sampson, trembling violently, and thereby
producing a subdued rustle, as of wind in the trees. "As I've never bin
in the court, 'cept the time as father tooked me for a treat, to 'ear a
murder, which there's no denyin' is as good as a play, 'e bein' 'ung,
'avin' 'it 'is wife over the 'ead with the poker when she weren't
lookin', and a-berryin' 'er corpse in a back garding, without even a
stone to mark the place, let alone a line from the Psalms and a
remuneration of 'er virtues."

"Well, well," said Calton, rather impatiently, as he opened the door
for her, "leave us for a short time, there's a good soul. Miss Frettlby
and I want to rest, and we will ring for you when we are going."

"Thank you, sir," said the lachrymose landlady, "an' I 'opes they won't
'ang 'im, which is sich a choky way of dyin'; but in life we are in
death," she went on, rather incoherently, "as is well known to them as
'as diseases, an' may be corpsed at any minute, and as--"

Here Calton, unable to restrain his impatience any longer, shut the
door, and they heard Mrs. Sampson's shrill voice and subdued cracklings
die away in the distance.

"Now then," he said, "now that we have got rid of that woman and her
tongue, where are we to begin?"

"The desk," replied Madge, going over to it. "It's the most likely
place."

"Don't think so," said Calton, shaking his head. "If, as you say,
Fitzgerald is a careless man, he would not have troubled to put it
there. However; perhaps we'd better look."

The desk was very untidy ("Just like Brian," as Madge remarked)--full
o