not at Will when he spoke again. “Will,” said he, solemnly, “I don’t know what has come over me; I don’t know whether it’s the state of mind that I’m in or not, but I can see the way that Isaac Naylor was killed—at least, I think I can—as clearly as though I had second sight. God forgive me if I’m wrong, but this is how I see it in my mind’s eye. I don’t know why Mr. Moor was riding along the turnpike just at that time, but I believe that it was to see and speak to Isaac Naylor again. However that may be, he _was_ riding along the pike, and came to the end of the mill road where it opens upon the highway. There he saw Isaac talking to me and he stopped, either because what he wanted to say to Isaac was to be said in private, or because he knew me and wanted to see what would come of our talk. He saw me attack Isaac and heard him call for help, but he didn’t come to him because he’d hoped I’d kill him. That was why he was so white when I saw him a minute or two later. When he saw me leave Isaac Naylor and run up the road, he backed his horse into the water so as to make it seem as though he was just giving it a drink. I don’t believe that he would have any settled plan for doing this; it would be his instinct to do it. When he saw that Isaac was about to escape after all, he rode up to where he was sitting on the rock. Maybe they exchanged a few words; maybe he just picked up the stake and struck him where he sat, half dazed. I guess his mind must have been all in a toss and ferment at what he had seen me about to do, and the thought flashed through him, why shouldn’t he finish what he had seen me begin? I would be the one suspected, for all the circumstances would point to me, and I had come within a hair’s breadth of doing the deed myself. After he had struck Isaac and saw him lying in the grass, he realized what he had done, then he turned and mounted his horse and rode away. I think that this is so, because there was only one blow given, and Dr. Winterapple said in his evidence that he didn’t believe that it killed him right away; if Moor had coolly intended to kill Isaac, he would have made sure of it. This is my notion of what happened; of course, I may be mistaken in it.” Tom turned as he ended, and looked at Will; the other was gazing intently at him. At last Will spoke: “I—I follow your thoughts, Tom. It all sounds reasonable enough, but I must have time to think it over. I—I can’t believe it, somehow.” “I don’t wonder at that,” said Tom, “beside, it’s only my own notion of it. Some one did kill Isaac Naylor, and it is clear that he was killed soon after I left him, for he never got to Elihu Penrose’s house, and he was found dead just where I left him. It only remains now to find out who it was. In my opinion, the most likely one to have done it was Mr. Moor. We must set about finding out several things, and that I depend on your doing.” “I’ll do all that I can,” said Will.