arded his clerk in silence. He knew by that time that
this fellow was in possession of some information, and his
characteristic inclination was to fence with him. And he made a great
effort to pull himself together, so as to deal better with whatever
might be in store.

"Either me or Mr. Cotherstone!" he repeated sarcastically. "Oh! Now
which on us would you be inclined to fix it on, Mr. Stoner? Eh?"

"May have been one, may have been the other, may have been both, for
aught I know," retorted Stoner. "But you're both guilty, any way! It's
no use, Mr. Mallalieu--I know you killed him. And--I know why!"

Again there was silence, and again a duel of staring eyes. And at its
end Mallalieu laughed again, still affecting sneering and incredulous
sentiments.

"Aye?--and why did one or t'other or both--have it which way you
will--murder this here old gentleman?" he demanded. "Why, Mr.
Sharp-nose?"

"I'll tell you--and then you'll know what I know," answered Stoner.
"Because the old gentleman was an ex-detective, who was present when you
and Cotherstone, under your proper names of Mallows and Chidforth, were
tried for fraud at Wilchester Assizes, thirty years ago, and sentenced
to two years! That's why, Mr. Mallalieu. The old chap knew it, and he
let you know that he knew it, and you killed him to silence him. You
didn't want it to get out that the Mayor and Borough Treasurer of
Highmarket, so respected, so much thought of, are--a couple of old
gaol-birds!"

Mallalieu's hot temper, held very well in check until then, flamed up as
Stoner spat out the last contemptuous epithet. He had stood with his
right hand behind him, grasping his heavy oaken stick--now, as his rage
suddenly boiled, he swung hand and stick round in a savage blow at his
tormentor, and the crook of the stick fell crashing against Stoner's
temples. So quick was the blow, so sudden the assault, that the clerk
had time to do no more than throw up an arm. And as he threw it up, and
as the heavy blow fell, the old, rotten railing against which Stoner had
leant so nonchalantly, gave way, and he fell back through it, and across
the brow of the quarry--and without a sound. Mallalieu heard the crash
of his stick on his victim's temples; he heard the rending and crackling
of the railings--but he heard neither cry, nor sigh, nor groan from
Stoner. Stoner fell backward and disappeared--and then (it seemed an age
in coming) Mallalieu's frightened senses were aware of