"

He produced a handkerchief with two round holes burned in the centre.

"It was such a handkerchief one of the men who stuck up Taloona was
wearing," he added.

"Where is he now?" Harding asked.

"We brought him in and took him over to the police-station. It is for
Mrs. Eustace, of course, to say what is to be done about the funeral.
Will you break the news to her by yourself, or shall I do it?"

"You have told Mr. Wallace?"

"Yes. He suggested I should see you. The news upset him very much."

"It will be better if I see her alone, I think."

"I think so too. Not that I want to put the burden upon you, but coming
from me----" he shrugged his shoulders. "I will leave you then, and ask
her to come in."

Harding met her at the door. Closing it behind her, he took her hand and
led her to the chair where she had been sitting before Durham arrived.

"Jess," he said softly, as he stood by her, still holding her hand, "I
have sad news to tell you."

Her fingers closed tighter upon his, but beyond that she made no sign.

"Durham asked me to tell you."

"Charlie," she said in a tense whisper. "It is about him. He is----"

A shudder went through her and her voice broke.

He placed his other hand upon hers gently.

"He is gone, Jess."

She rose to her feet with a gasp, clutching his arm.

"Not dead!"

"Yes, Jess."

Her hands fell to her sides, limply, nervelessly; her lips parted, but
no sound came from them; for a second she stood motionless.

He took her hand again and rested his arm upon her shoulder, fearing she
would fall.

"Dead!"

The word came in a low whisper, but the parted lips did not move nor the
staring eyes change.

"My poor, poor Jess," he whispered.

"Oh, Fred!"

A great wavering sigh escaped her, a sigh that ended in a sob,
plaintive, wailing, sad. But still her eyes stared blankly.

"Sit down, Jess," he said softly.

"No, no. Let me stand. Let me--I want to face it. Don't leave me, Fred,
don't leave me."

She swayed, and the staring eyes closed. He slipped his arm round her
waist to support her and at the touch she came forward, flinging her
arms round him as her head drooped upon his shoulder and she burst into
a fit of wild, tempestuous weeping.

So he held her, his head bent upon hers, his arms supporting her. Not
until the storm of sobs had abated did he speak.

"Sit down, now, Jess. You will be better resting," he whispered.

"No, no," she answered. "No, no. Let m