han one in surprise. "Why no
one wouldn't have thought as Jim 'ad seen the colour o' gold this three
months past."

"Come on in and shut the door," cried some one, as a new-comer entered
the tap-room, followed by an icy blast and a shower of snow, which was
again falling.

"Why, it's Sergeant Newte!" exclaimed the publican, as a burly man in a
dark overcoat entered, carefully closed the door, and moved ponderously
towards the bar. A sudden hush fell upon the assembly, all eyes and ears
being turned towards the representative of the law. All felt that the
plain-clothes man bore news of the tragedy, and waited anxiously for
the oracle to speak.

"Well, sir," asked Bramberger, "and what can I have the pleasure of
serving you with? It isn't often we have the honour of your company down
here."

"I won't have anything to-night, thanks," answered the man. "It isn't a
drink I'm after, but just a little information that I fancy you, or some
of these gentlemen here, may be able to give me. Every one knows that
James Pavely was a pretty frequent customer of yours, and what I want to
find out is, when he was last in here?"

"Let me see. Last night about seven, wasn't it, Molly?" returned the
landlord, turning to his wife. "No, by the by, he came in and had
something about a quarter to nine. That's the last we saw of him, poor
fellow."

The sergeant in plain clothes produced his notebook. "Who else was in
the bar with him?"

"Nobody in particular. Some of the hands from the barges, I fancy. He
just had his drink and passed the time of day, as you may say, and was
off in five or ten minutes."

"Eh, but you're making a mistake there, Mr. Bramberger," spoke up a
voice near by; and the officer turned sharply in the direction of the
speaker.

Urged on by those standing round him, Robert Rait, a big longshoreman,
came slowly to the front. All eyes were upon him, which caused him to
assume a somewhat sheepish aspect.

"Well, Sergeant, true as I'm standing 'ere, I see pore Jim come out of
this 'ere bar just after twelve last night along with that young gent as
is learnin' farming over Latchingdon way."

At this every one grew interested.

"Are you sure of what you say?" asked the officer sharply.

"Sartin sure. I were sittin' on my barge a-smokin' my pipe, an' I 'eard
the clock over at the church, behind 'ere, strike twelve. I don't know
why, but I remember I counted the strokes. Five minutes later out come
Pavely with th