breath, looking at me with rapidly
dilating eyes: they ran me all over, as if he wondered whether I were
romancing.

"Come this way," I continued, leading him to the edge of the cliff.
"And mind how you walk on the sand--there are footmarks there, and I
don't want them interfered with till the police have examined them.
There!" I continued, as we reached the edge of the turf and came in
view of the beach. "You see?"

He gave another exclamation of surprise: then carefully followed me to
the dead man's side where he stood staring wonderingly at the stains
on the sand.

"He must have been dead for some hours," I whispered. "He's
stone-cold--and rigid. Now, this is murder! You live about here, no
doubt? Did you see or hear anything of this man in the neighbourhood
last night--or in the afternoon or evening?"

"I, sir?" he exclaimed. "No, sir--nothing!"

"I met him yesterday afternoon on the headlands between this and
Alnmouth," I remarked.

"I was with him for a while at the Mariner's Joy. He pulled out a big
handful of gold there, to pay for his lunch. The landlord warned him
against showing so much money. Now, before we do more, I'd like to
know if he's been murdered for the sake of robbery. You're doubtless
quicker of hand than I am--just slip your hand into that right-hand
pocket of his trousers, and see if you feel money there."

He took my meaning on the instant, and bending down, did what I
suggested. A smothered exclamation came from him.

"Money?" he said. "His pocket's full o' money!"

"Bring it out," I commanded.

He withdrew his hand; opened it; the palm was full of gold. The light
of the morning sun flashed on those coins as if in mockery. We both
looked at them--and then at each other with a sudden mutual
intelligence.

"Then it wasn't robbery!" I exclaimed. "So--"

He thrust back the gold, and pulling at a thick chain of steel which
lay across Quick's waistcoat, drew out a fine watch.

"Gold again, sir!" he said. "And a good 'un, that's never been bought
for less than thirty pound. No, it's not been robbery."

"No," I agreed, "and that makes it all the more mysterious. What's
your name?"

"Tarver, sir, at your service," he answered, as he rose from the dead
man's side. "Been on this estate a many years, sir."

"Well, Tarver," I said, "the only thing to be done is that I must go
back to the house and tell Mr. Raven what's happened, and send for the
police. Do you stay here--and if anybod