swung
open and Scanlon, who was watching it, said:

"Here's your man now."

Fenton, frowning and evidently in bad humor, entered the back room.
Hutchinson greeted him with:

"Hello, Joe. A couple of people who want to talk to you."

Ashton-Kirk nodded to the broken-nosed man, who looked at him,
inquiringly.

"What do you want?" asked he. "It ought to be something bright to rout a
man out of bed."

"I'd like to ask you one or two questions," said Ashton-Kirk, smoothly.

"Questions!" Fenton's eyes narrowed. "What kind of questions?"

"About Tom Burton," replied Ashton-Kirk. "I'd like to know what
happened after he left this place with you on his track."

Fenton gave a quick, hunted look around; for an instant his eyes rested
upon the street door, but Scanlon's big body was between him and it in a
twinkling.

"It'll be easier to answer the questions," said Bat, unconcernedly.
"We'd get you in a minute or two."

The man's glance went to Hutchinson accusingly, and the manager of the
pool room at once began to protest.

"Honest, Joe, I didn't say a word. They came in here and wanted to see
you, and I thought it best to get it over with."

"You followed Tom Burton to Stanwick," said Ashton-Kirk. "A person who
saw you there has made a direct accusation against you."

The face of the broken-nosed man went white.

"What did they say?" he demanded. "They're liars. What did they say? I
didn't do a thing!"

"Well, if you didn't, the best thing to do is to clear yourself of
suspicion by telling all you know. I have had it from two different
sources that you had business with the Bounder that night. What was its
nature?"

Fenton hesitated a moment; his furtive mind was working desperately for
a way to avoid admitting light upon his doings; but apparently he could
think of none, for he said, slowly:

"I'd been acquainted with Tom Burton for years; sometimes I wouldn't see
anything of him for a long time; and then," bitterly, "I'd know he was
flush. He never came near me unless he was broke and wanted something
done. A couple of weeks ago he showed up and handed me the details of a
little game that looked like easy money; I was to work it and we were to
split the proceeds, fifty-fifty."

"And this, I suppose, is the matter he came to see you about on the
night he was killed?"

"Yes," answered Fenton, and he laughed as he said it. "That's the thing.
He came around like a lord and put his mitt out for his cut o