owards the end of the
afternoon, Chamberlayne was taken suddenly ill, and though they got a
doctor to him at once, he died before evening. The doctor said he'd a
diseased heart. Anyhow, he was able to certify the cause of his death,
so there was no inquest and they buried him, as I have told you."

The old gentleman paused and, taking a sip at his sherry, smiled at
some reminiscence which occurred to him.

"Well," he said, presently going on, "of course, on that came all the
Maitland revelations, and Maitland vowed and declared that Chamberlayne
had not only had nearly all the money, but that he was absolutely
certain that most of it was in his hands in hard cash. But
Chamberlayne, Mr. Spargo, had left practically nothing. All that could
be traced was about three or four thousand pounds. He'd left everything
to his nephew, Stephen. There wasn't a trace, a clue to the vast sums
with which Maitland had entrusted him. And then people began to talk,
and they said what some of them say to this very day!"

"What's that?" asked Spargo.

Mr. Quarterpage leaned forward and tapped his guest on the arm.

"That Chamberlayne never did die, and that that coffin was weighted
with lead!" he answered.

CHAPTER TWENTY

MAITLAND _ALIAS_ MARBURY

This remarkable declaration awoke such a new conception of matters in
Spargo's mind, aroused such infinitely new possibilities in his
imagination, that for a full moment he sat silently staring at his
informant, who chuckled with quiet enjoyment at his visitor's surprise.

"Do you mean to tell me," said Spargo at last, "that there are people
in this town who still believe that the coffin in your cemetery which
is said to contain Chamberlayne's body contains--lead?"

"Lots of 'em, my dear sir!" replied Mr. Quarterpage. "Lots of 'em! Go
out in the street and asked the first six men you meet, and I'll go
bail that four out of the six believe it."

"Then why, in the sacred name of common sense did no one ever take
steps to make certain?" asked Spargo. "Why didn't they get an order for
exhumation?"

"Because it was nobody's particular business to do so," answered Mr.
Quarterpage. "You don't know country-town life, my dear sir. In towns
like Market Milcaster folks talk and gossip a great deal, but they're
always slow to do anything. It's a case of who'll start first--of
initiative. And if they see it's going to cost anything--then they'll
have nothing to do with it."

"But--the