w nothing about any money," said Pitman.

"You needn't try that on," said Morris. "I have tracked you down; you
came to the station sacrilegiously disguised as a clergyman, procured my
barrel, opened it, rifled the body, and cashed the bill. I have been to
the bank, I tell you! I have followed you step by step, and your denials
are childish and absurd."

"Come, come, Morris, keep your temper," said Mr. Appleby.

"Michael!" cried Morris, "Michael here too!"

"Here too," echoed the lawyer; "here and everywhere, my good fellow;
every step you take is counted; trained detectives follow you like your
shadow; they report to me every three-quarters of an hour; no expense is
spared."

Morris's face took on a hue of dirty grey. "Well, I don't care; I have
the less reserve to keep," he cried. "That man cashed my bill; it's a
theft, and I want the money back."

"Do you think I would lie to you, Morris?" asked Michael.

"I don't know," said his cousin. "I want my money."

"It was I alone who touched the body," began Michael.

"You? Michael!" cried Morris, starting back. "Then why haven't you
declared the death?"

"What the devil do you mean?" asked Michael.

"Am I mad? or are you?" cried Morris.

"I think it must be Pitman," said Michael.

The three men stared at each other, wild-eyed.

"This is dreadful," said Morris, "dreadful. I do not understand one word
that is addressed to me."

"I give you my word of honour, no more do I," said Michael.

"And in God's name, why whiskers?" cried Morris, pointing in a ghastly
manner at his cousin. "Does my brain reel? How whiskers?"

"O, that's a matter of detail," said Michael.

There was another silence, during which Morris appeared to himself to be
shot in a trapeze as high as St. Paul's, and as low as Baker Street
Station.

"Let us recapitulate," said Michael, "unless it's really a dream, in
which case I wish Teena would call me for breakfast. My friend Pitman,
here, received a barrel which, it now appears, was meant for you. The
barrel contained the body of a man. How or why you killed him...."

"I never laid a hand on him," protested Morris. "This is what I have
dreaded all along. But think, Michael! I'm not that kind of man; with
all my faults, I wouldn't touch a hair of anybody's head, and it was all
dead loss to me. He got killed in that vile accident."

Suddenly Michael was seized by mirth so prolonged and excessive that his
companions supposed beyond a doub