en the constable, and Carrington last. The superintendent went
straight up to the lawyer, his large face preternaturally solemn.
Touching him on the shoulder he said:

"I arrest you in the King's name!"

The man in the chair half started up and then fell back again.

"What for?" he asked huskily.

"The murder of Simon Rattar."

The lawyer took it as one who had seen the sword descending, but not so
Ned Cromarty.

"Of Simon Rattar!" he shouted. "What the--then who the devil is this?"

Carrington answered. He spoke with his usual easy smile, but his
triumphant eye betrayed his heart.

"The superintendent has omitted part of the usual formalities," he said.
"This person should have been introduced as Mr. George Rattar."

"George!" gasped Ned. "But I thought he was dead!"

"So did I," said Carrington, "but he wasn't."

"What proof have you of this story?" demanded the man in the chair
suddenly.

"We have just dug up your brother's body from that flower bed," said
Carrington quietly. "Do you recognise his ring?"

He held up a gold signet ring, and the lawyer fell back in his chair.

"But look here!" exclaimed Ned, "what about Sir Reginald's murder? He
did that too, I suppose!"

Carrington nodded.

"We hope to add that to his account in a day or two. This is enough to
be going on with, but as a matter of fact we have nearly enough evidence
now to add the other charge."

"I can add one bit," said Ned, picking up the match box. "He has just
tried to do me in with this little thing, and I take it, it was the
third time of using."

Carrington weighed it in his hand, and then said to the prisoner:

"You put it in the end of a stocking, I suppose?"

The man looked up at him with a new expression in his eye. If it were
not a trace of grim humour, it was hard to say what else it could be.

"Get me a drink," he said huskily, nodding towards the tantalus on the
side table, "and I'll tell you the whole damned yarn. My God, I'm dry as
a damned bone!"

"Give me the key of the tantalus," said Carrington promptly.

But the superintendent seemed somewhat taken aback.

"Anything you say may be used against you," he reminded the prisoner.

"You know enough to swing me, anyhow," said Rattar, "but I'd like you to
know that I didn't really mean to do it. I want that drink first
though!"

He took the glass of whisky and water and as he raised it to his lips,
that same curious look came back into his eye.

"Here's