known. Hawthwaite's arrested Krevin Crood for the murder."

In spite of his usual self-possession, Brent started.

"What!" he exclaimed. "Krevin!"

"Krevin," answered the landlord. "And Simon! Both of 'em. Got 'em at
seven o'clock. They're in the police station--cells of course. Nice
business--Mayor of a town arrested for the murder of his predecessor!"

"As far as I can make out, Simon's charged with being accessory,"
remarked one of the other men. "Krevin's the culprit-in-chief."

"Well, there they both are anyway," said the landlord. "And, if I know
anything about the law, it's as serious a thing to be accessory to a
murder as to be the principal in one. What do you say, Mr. Brent?"

Brent made no reply. He was thinking. So this was what Hawthwaite had
meant when he said, the day before, that all was ready? He wished that
Hawthwaite had given him a hint, or been perfectly explicit with him.
For there was Queenie to consider.

And now, without further remark to the group of gossipers, he turned on
his heel and went back to her and took her into the coffee-room and to
the table which was always specially reserved for him. Not until Queenie
had eaten her dinner did he tell her of what he had learned.

"So now there's going to be hell for a time, girlie," he said in
conclusion. "No end of unpleasantness for me--and for you, considering
that these men are your folk. And so all the more reason why you and I
stick together like leeches--not all the Simons and the Krevins in the
world are going to make any difference between you and me, and we'll
just go forward as if they didn't exist, whatever comes out. And now,
come along and I'll see you home to Mother Appleyard's, and then I'll
drop in on Hawthwaite and learn all about it."

"Do--do you think they did it?" asked Queenie in a fearful whisper.
"Actually?"

"God knows!" muttered Brent. "Damned if I do, or if I know what to
think. But Hawthwaite must have good grounds for this!"

He saw Queenie safely home to Mrs. Appleyard's and hurried off to the
police station, where he found the superintendent alone in his office.

"You've heard?" said Hawthwaite.

"I've heard," replied Brent. "I wish you'd given me an idea--a hint."

Hawthwaite shook his head. There was something peculiarly emphatic in
the gesture.

"Mr. Brent," he said solemnly. "I wouldn't have given the King himself a
hint! I'd reasons--good reasons--for keeping the thing a profound secret
until I