“No; Bull Blair collared it.” “Blair did not know of you having it, did he?” asked Burt. “No; he came here to gut my safe, and he took that with the rest. I am ruined.” Tears coursed down the wretched miser’s furrowed cheeks. It was for the loss of money he could never enjoy he wept. “I have Tony Riley in custody.” “I’ve fed and clothed that rascal, and it was he who put Bull Blair up to rob me.” “Then it wasn’t Quick who left you at the foot of the cellar shaft?” “No; it was Blair and Riley,” replied Monte; “but I will get square!” He would not realize that he stood on the edge of the grave. “Where do you suppose Bull can be found?” asked Burt. “Leave him to me. I’ll take care of him!” “Won’t you answer my question?” “I have answered it.” “Monte, I must recover that diamond.” “Who owns it?” “That does not concern you.” “Neither does it concern you where Blair is to be found.” “I must be personally revenged upon him. He found me dying, and he threw me in the shaft, to die like a dog!” A fit of coughing prevented the miser from proceeding farther just then. Burt raised the man higher in the bed, that he might breathe more freely. Monte did not even thank him. “Don’t you think you had better see a minister?” asked Burt. Murphy laughed. “I’m not going to die, I tell you,” he said. “Won’t you tell me where I can find Bull Blair?” “No.” “Then I shall find him without your help,” said Burt. “In a day or two I shall find him myself, and I shall also settle my little account with Mike Quick.” The old “fence” seemed to be seized with a sudden chill. He tried to speak, but was unable. Then he clutched his own throat wildly. The whisky flask had fallen on the bed, and its contents ran from it. Monte Murphy was a corpse! Burt caught hold of the man’s wrist. He found that the pulse had ceased to beat. Mike Quick was a murderer. But how was his crime to be brought home to him? Burt only had Murphy’s word for the dive-keeper’s guilt, and now Murphy was dead. He straightened the corpse upon the bed, and placed a handkerchief over the features of the dead. Then he went down-stairs. Cook stood guard over Tony. “How is the old fellow coming on?” asked Enoch. “He is dead.” Riley’s hair almost stood on end from fright. CHAPTER XIX. BURT’S NEW ALLY. “Why did you remain behind Bull Blair?” Burt addressed his prisoner. “I wanted to pack up some of my things that are here. I happened to stretch myself on a lounge up-stairs, and fell asleep, or I would have left here hours ago.” “You and Blair are partly responsible for Murphy’s death.” “Don’t say that.” Tony trembled like an aspen. “It is the truth; the man might have lived had he not been thrown down the shaft into the cellar,” said Burt. “I had nothing to do with it. I begged Bull to allow him to remain in his bed.” “Did Monte say who stabbed him?” “Yes; Mike Quick.”