was yet a chance for him to make
that possible discovery impossible. Now that the body had been found, he
himself could visit the spot with safety, on the pretext of curiosity.
He could look round; if he found the stick he could drop it into a safe
fissure of the rocks, or make away with it. It was a good notion--and
instead of going home to lunch Mallalieu turned into a private room of
the Highmarket Arms, ate a sandwich and drank a glass of ale, and
hurried off, alone, to the moors.

The news of this second mysterious death flew round Highmarket and the
neighbourhood like wild-fire. Brereton heard of it during the afternoon,
and having some business in the town in connexion with Harborough's
defence, he looked in at the police-station and found the superintendent
in an unusually grave and glum mood.

"This sort of thing's getting beyond me, Mr. Brereton," he said in a
whisper. "Whether it is that I'm not used to such things--thank God!
we've had little experience of violence in this place in my time!--or
what it is, but I've got it into my head that this poor young fellow's
death's connected in some way with Kitely's affair! I have indeed,
sir!--it's been bothering me all the afternoon. For all the
doctors--there's been several of 'em in during the last two hours--are
absolutely agreed that Stoner was felled, sir--felled by a savage blow,
and they say he may ha' been dead before ever he fell over that quarry
edge. Mr. Brereton--I misdoubt it's another murder!"

"Have you anything to go on?" asked Brereton. "Had anybody any motive?
Was there any love affair--jealousy, you know--anything of that sort?"

"No, I'm sure there wasn't," replied the superintendent. "The whole town
and county's ringing with the news, and I should ha' heard something by
now. And it wasn't robbery--not that he'd much on him, poor fellow!
There's all he had," he went on, opening a drawer. "You can look at 'em,
if you like."

He left the room just then, and Brereton, disregarding the cheap watch
and chain and the pigskin purse with its light load, opened Stoner's
pocket-book. There was not much in that, either--a letter or two, some
receipted bills, a couple of much creased copies of the reward bill,
some cuttings from newspapers. He turned from these to the pocket-book
itself, and on the last written page he found an entry which made him
start. For there again were the initials!

"--_M. & C._--_fraud_--_bldg. soc._--_Wilchester
Assizes_--