'e went out of doors I never know'd where 'e went, which is jest like 'em; for they ses they're goin' to work, an' you finds 'em in the beershop. Mr. Whyte told me 'e was a-goin' to marry a heiress, 'e was."
"Ah!" interjected Mr. Gorby, sapiently.
"E 'ad only one friend as I ever saw—a Mr. Moreland—who comed 'ere with 'im, an' was allays with 'im—brother like."
"What like is this Mr. Moreland?"
"Good-lookin' enough," said Mrs. Hableton, sourly, "but 'is 'abits weren't as good as 'is face—'andsom is as 'andsom does, is what I ses."
"I wonder if he knows anything about this affair," muttered Gorby to himself. "Where is Mr. Moreland to be found?" he asked aloud.
"Not knowin', can't tell," retorted the landlady, "'e used to be 'ere reg'lar, but I ain't seen 'im for over a week."
"Strange! very!" thought Gorby, shaking his head. "I should like to see this Mr. Moreland. I suppose it's probable he'll call again?" he remarked, aloud.
"'Abit bein' second nature I s'pose he will," answered the woman, "'e might call at any time, mostly 'avin' called at night."
"Ah! then I'll come down this evening on the chance of seeing him," replied the detective. "Coincidences happen in real life as well as in novels, and the gentleman in question may turn up in the nick of time. Now, what else about Mr. Whyte?"
"About two weeks ago, or three, I'm not cert'in which, a gentleman called to see Mr. Whyte; 'e was very tall, and wore a light coat."
"Ah! a morning coat?"
"No! 'e was in evenin' dress, and wore a light coat over it, an' a soft 'at."
"The very man," said the detective below his breath; "go on."
"He went into Mr. Whyte's room, an' shut the door. I don't know how long they were talkin' together; but I was sittin' in this very room and heard their voices git angry, and they were a-swearing at one another, which is the way with men, the brutes. I got up and went into the passage in order to ask 'em not to make such a noise, when Mr.
