tion of delight, Brereton turned over the pages of
that queer record of crime and detection until he came to one over which
the figure 1881 stood out boldly. A turn or two more of pages, and he
had found what he wanted. There it was--a long cutting from what was
evidently a local newspaper--a cutting which extended over two or three
leaves of the book--and at the end a memorandum in Kitely's handwriting,
evidently made some years before. The editor of that local newspaper had
considered the case which Kitely had so carefully scissored from his
columns worthy of four headlines in big capitals:--

THE BUILDING SOCIETY DEFALCATIONS MALLOWS AND CHIDFORTH AT THE
WILCHESTER ASSIZES VERDICT AND SENTENCE

Brereton settled down to a careful reading of the report. There was
really nothing very remarkable about it--nothing exciting nor
sensational. It was indeed no more than a humdrum narrative of a vulgar
crime. But it was necessary that he should know all about it, and be
able to summarize it, and so he read it over with unusual care. It was a
very plain story--there were no complications. It appeared from the
evidence adduced that for some time previous to 1881 there had been in
existence in Wilchester a building society, the members of which were
chiefly of the small tradesman and better-class working-man order. Its
chief officials for a year or two had been John Mallows and Mark
Chidforth, who were respectively treasurer and secretary. Mallows was
foreman to a builder in the town; Chidforth was clerk to the same
employer. Both were young men. They were evidently regarded as smart
fellows. Up to the time of the revelations they had borne the very best
of characters. Each had lived in Wilchester since childhood; each had
continued his education at night schools and institute classes after the
usual elementary school days were over; each was credited with an
ambitious desire to rise in the world. Each, as a young man, was
attached to religious organizations--Mallows was a sidesman at one of
the churches, Chidforth was a Sunday-school teacher at one of the
chapels. Both had been fully and firmly trusted, and it appeared from
the evidence that they had had what practically amounted to unsupervised
control of the building society's funds. And--the really important
point--there was no doubt whatever that they had helped themselves to
some two thousand pounds of their fellow-members' money.

All this was clear enough: