rs, young man!"

"No offence meant," retorted Stoner, coolly. He looked round him,
noticed some convenient railings, old and worn, which fenced in the
quarry, and stepping back to them, calmly leaned against the top one,
put his hands in his pockets and looked at Mallalieu with a glance which
was intended to show that he felt himself top dog in any encounter that
might come. "I want a word or two with you, Mr. Mallalieu," he said.

Mallalieu, who was plainly amazed by this strange conduct, glared at
Stoner.

"You want a word--or two--with--me?" he exclaimed. "For why, pray?--and
why here?"

"Here's a convenient spot," said Stoner, with a nasty laugh. "We're all
alone. Not a soul near us. You wouldn't like anybody to overhear what
I've got to say."

Mallalieu stared at the clerk during a full minute's silence. He had a
trick of silently staring people out of countenance. But he found that
Stoner was not to be stared down, and eventually he spoke.

"I'll tell you what it is, my lad!" he said. "I don't know whether
you've been drinking, or if you've some bee in your bonnet, but I don't
allow nobody, and especially a man as I pay wages to, to speak in them
tones to me! What d'ye mean by it?"

"I'll tell you what I mean, Mr. Mallalieu," replied Stoner, still
regarding his man fixedly, and nerving himself for the contest. "I mean
this--I know who killed Kitely!"

Mallalieu felt himself start again; he felt his face flush warm. But he
managed to show a fairly controlled front, and he made shift to sneer.

"Oh, indeed," he said, twisting his mouth in derision. "Do you now?
Deary me!--it's wonderful how clever some young folks is! So you know
who killed Kitely, do you, my lad? Ah! And who did kill Kitely, now?
Let's be knowing! Or happen you'd rather keep such a grand secret to
yourself--till you can make something out of it?"

"I can make something out of it now," retorted Stoner, who was sharp
enough to see through Mallalieu's affectation of scorn. "Just you
realize the importance of what I'm saying. I tell you once again--I know
who killed Kitely!"

"And who did kill him, then?" demanded Mallalieu. "Psha!--you know
naught about it!"

Stoner laughed, looked round, and then leaned his head forward.

"Don't I?" he said, with a sneer that exceeded his employer's in
significance and meaning. "But you're wrong--I do! Kitely was murdered
by either you or Cotherstone! How's that, Mr. Mallalieu?"

Mallalieu again reg