erhand trick succeeded in gaining the misplaced confidence of Kara's
housekeeper, who by the way"--he turned round to his desk and scribbled
a name on the blotting-pad--"will be discharged to-morrow and must be
found a place."

"Is there any--er--?" began the Chief.

"Funny business?" interrupted T. X., "not a bit. House and man are quite
normal save for these eccentricities. He has announced his intention of
spending three months of the year in England and nine months abroad. He
is very rich, has no relations, and has a passion for power."

"Then he'll be hung," said the Chief, rising.

"I doubt it," said the other, "people with lots of money seldom get
hung. You only get hung for wanting money."

"Then you're in some danger, T. X.," smiled the Chief, "for according to
my account you're always more or less broke."

"A genial libel," said T. X., "but talking about people being broke, I
saw John Lexman to-day--you know him!"

The Chief Commissioner nodded.

"I've an idea he's rather hit for money. He was in that Roumanian gold
swindle, and by his general gloom, which only comes to a man when he's
in love (and he can't possibly be in love since he's married) or when
he's in debt, I fear that he is still feeling the effect of that rosy
adventure."

A telephone bell in the corner of the room rang sharply, and T. X.
picked up the receiver. He listened intently.

"A trunk call," he said over his shoulder to the departing commissioner,
"it may be something interesting."

A little pause; then a hoarse voice spoke to him. "Is that you, T. X.?"

"That's me," said the Assistant Commissioner, commonly.

"It's John Lexman speaking."

"I shouldn't have recognized your voice," said T. X., "what is wrong
with you, John, can't you get your plot to went?"

"I want you to come down here at once," said the voice urgently, and
even over the telephone T. X. recognized the distress. "I have shot a
man, killed him!"

T. X. gasped.

"Good Lord," he said, "you are a silly ass!"

CHAPTER III

In the early hours of the morning a tragic little party was assembled in
the study at Beston Priory. John Lexman, white and haggard, sat on the
sofa with his wife by his side. Immediate authority as represented by
a village constable was on duty in the passage outside, whilst T. X.
sitting at the table with a writing pad and a pencil was briefly noting
the evidence.

The author had sketched the events of the day. He had desc