"Look here, Mr. Wraypoole," he said confidentially. "I want a word with you. You know you were very open at the beginning of the inquest the other day—about your brother's affairs, and everything being left to you, eh?"
"Nothing to conceal—nothing!" replied Thomas, cheerfully. "Candid nature, mine!"
"Aye, well, that's all very nice and proper, I'm sure," said Wedgwood, "but this world is not without suspicious people, and I've heard one or two remarks about the fact that you're the sole beneficiary under your brother's will."
"I am!" exclaimed Thomas. "What about it?"
Wedgwood gave him a look that was meant to suggest wise counsel.
"If I were you, Mr. Wraypoole," he said in a low voice. "I should just give an account of my movements on the evening of the—well, it was murder, no doubt of it, and we'll call it such! No doubt you can say where you were during that evening?"
"As I happen to have been in my right senses that evening, and as I'm always so, I should say I can, mister!" retorted Thomas. "Are you asking me?"
"Well, if you've no objection to tell———" began Wedgwood.
"None at all!" interrupted Thomas. "The
