traced in sand,' Lord Byron has it."

"Ay, an' some men's, too," guffawed Hobbs. "Wot about Peggy Smith, Fred?"

Elkin blew a mouthful of cigarette smoke at the butcher.

"What about that tough old bull you bought at Knoleworth on Monday?"
he retorted.

Hobbs's face grew purple. Mr. Franklin beckoned to Tomlin.

"Ask these gentlemen what they'll have," he said gently. The landlord
made a clatter of glasses, and the threatened storm passed.

"You've aroused my curiosity," remarked Franklin to Peters, but taking
the company at large into the conversation. "This does certainly strike
one as a remarkable case. Is there no suspicion yet as to the actual
murderer?"

"None whatever," said Peters.

"That's what you may call the police opinion," broke in Elkin. "We
Steynholme folk have a pretty clear notion, I can assure you."

"The matter is still _sub judice_, and may remain so a long time," said
Siddle. "It is simply stupid to attach a kind of responsibility to the
man who happens to occupy the house associated with the crime. I have no
patience with that sort of reasoning."

Hobbs, who did not want to quarrel with Elkin, suddenly championed him.

"That's all very well," he rumbled. "But the hevidence you an' me 'eard,
Siddle, an' the hevidence we know we're goin' to 'ear, is a lot stronger
than that."

"I'm sure you'll pardon me, friends," said Siddle, rising with an
apologetic smile, "but I happen to be foreman of the coroner's jury, and
I feel that this matter is not for me, at any rate, to discuss publicly."

Out he went, not even heeding Tomlin's appeal to drink the ginger-ale he
had just ordered.

"Just like 'im," sighed Hobbs. "Good-'earted fellow! Would find hexcuses
for a black rat."

Elkin talked more freely now that the chemist's disapproving eye was off
him. Ultimately, Mr. Franklin elected to smoke a cigar in the open air,
and strolled forth. He sauntered down the hill, stood on the bridge, and
admired the soft blue tones of the landscape in the half light of a
summer evening. Shortly before closing time, Robinson appeared, it being
part of his routine duty to see that no noisy revelers disturbed the
peace of the village. He noticed the stranger at once, and elected to
walk past him.

Thus, he received yet another shock when Mr. Franklin addressed
him by name.

"Good evening, Robinson," said the pleasant, clear-toned voice. "I've
been expecting you to turn up. Kindly go back home, and leave