ou had with him?"

"Financial dealings--small ones."

"How long did your acquaintanceship with him last--what period did it
extend over?"

"I should say about six months to nine months."

"No more?"

"Certainly no more."

"It was quite a slight acquaintanceship, then?"

"Oh, quite!"

"And yet, after losing sight of this merely slight acquaintance for
over twenty years, you, on meeting him, take great interest in him?"

"Well, I was willing to do him a good turn, I was interested in what he
told me the other evening."

"I see. Now you will not object to my asking you a personal question or
two. You are a public man, and the facts about the lives of public men
are more or less public property. You are represented in this work of
popular reference as coming to this country in 1902, from Argentina,
where you made a considerable fortune. You have told us, however, that
you were in London, acquainted with Marbury, about the years, say 1890
to 1892. Did you then leave England soon after knowing Marbury?"

"I did. I left England in 1891 or 1892--I am not sure which."

"We are wanting to be very sure about this matter, Mr. Aylmore. We want
to solve the important question--who is, who was John Marbury, and how
did he come by his death? You seem to be the only available person who
knows anything about him. What was your business before you left
England?"

"I was interested in financial affairs."

"Like Marbury. Where did you carry on your business?"

"In London, of course."

"At what address?"

For some moments Aylmore had been growing more and more restive. His
brow had flushed; his moustache had begun to twitch. And now he squared
his shoulders and faced his questioner defiantly.

"I resent these questions about my private affairs!" he snapped out.

"Possibly. But I must put them. I repeat my last question."

"And I refuse to answer it."

"Then I ask you another. Where did you live in London at the time you
are telling us of, when you knew John Marbury?"

"I refuse to answer that question also!"

The Treasury Counsel sat down and looked at the Coroner.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE NEW WITNESS

The voice of the Coroner, bland, suave, deprecating, broke the silence.
He was addressing the witness.

"I am sure, Mr. Aylmore," he said, "there is no wish to trouble you
with unnecessary questions. But we are here to get at the truth of this
matter of John Marbury's death, and as you are the only witne