Then he folded the letter and gave it to Will, who left the cell without a word, but with a firm grip of the hand at parting. CHAPTER XIX. IT was not until the next day at noon that Will Gaines came to see Tom again; in the meantime, Tom’s father and his brother John had visited him. They had a long talk together, and, when they left, they seemed hopeful, and even cheerful. Will Gaines had told them of the suspicion that Tom held against Mr. Moor. Tom repeated to them what he had said the day before, and it seemed to them to be almost unanswerable. When Will came in about noon, Tom saw, at once, that he was very much excited. He flung himself down in the chair, and mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. “What’s the matter, Will?” said he, after waiting for a while, and seeing that there was no immediate prospect of his friend breaking the silence. “Tom,” burst out Will, “if everything that you’ve thought out in this case is as true as that which I have just heard, I’ll acknowledge that you are a most wonderful reasoner.” “What have you learned?” “I’ve just seen Sheriff Mathers.” “Well?” “Well, to begin at the beginning, I went down to White & Tenny’s office yesterday, but didn’t find either of them in. Their clerk was there, and said that they wouldn’t be back till some time to-day. I was just going down to their office a little while ago, when I met Sheriff Mathers in front of the _Crown and Angel_. He stopped me and began asking me about your case; or rather about Isaac Naylor’s death. I was just on the point of leaving him, when he dropped out that it was a lucky thing for some one in this town, that Isaac died when he did. You may guess how this caught my ear, for there was a deal of meaning in the sheriff’s tone. I began inquiring about the matter, but he didn’t give me very much satisfaction; he said that this concerned another party entirely, and hadn’t anything to do with the murder. “‘Oh! it’s about Edmund Moor, is it?’ said I, as easily as I could speak. “‘How did you know that?’ said he; ‘What do you know about the business?’ “Well, to make a long story short, after talking to him a good while, I found that Isaac Naylor had held a judgment against Moor (for how much I don’t know), and was about to put the sheriff on him. The judgment was to be lodged in the sheriff’s hands the very day that Isaac was killed. What do you think of that, Tom?” There was silence for some time; Tom’s heart was thumping against his ribs so that he could hardly breathe. However, he spoke as quietly as he could. “I fancied that there must be something of the kind,” said he. Will eyed him for a moment or two, “You seem to take it monstrously cool,” said he, at last. Tom made no answer to this speech; after a while he asked Will when he was going to send for the man Daly, of whom he had spoken the day before.