"Oh, but you could see in the dark!" remarked Mr. Cass, sarcastically. "What did that matter?" Job said, surlily. "I didn't know Jenner when I saw him; he was a stranger to me." "True enough," said Mr. Cass. "Go on." "Well, he fought and twisted, and I grabbed on to his throat then he half gave in, and pushed the pocket-book further into his pocket. I held him down and got it out. I didn't know he'd been knifing Jenner. I took the pocket-book to an old barn where I was going to sleep for the night, and looked through it; I couldn't find no bill, and thought I'd had all my trouble for nothing. So thinking she'd give me no money, I made up my mind as I'd tell her I'd got the bill and would keep it till she paid up; she believed the yarn, and I saw she was afraid. She asked me to shew her the bill; but I said I wouldn't, as she might put it in the burning fire. In one way or another I made her think I could do her husband harm with the bill, so she paid up well. Oh, yes," said the scoundrel, generously, "I will say she was a real gentle lady." "And all the time you hadn't the bill, you beast!" Job slapped his thigh. "That's the joke of it," he said, and began to cough again. Mr. Cass watched him with an expression of contempt. The secret of the murder seemed as far off as ever Like an elusive phantom it flitted just within reach, but when the seer hoped to grasp it, it was still the same distance ahead. Twice or thrice had Mr. Cass been on the verge of solving the mystery, and now again it was impenetrable as always before. He saw no reason to doubt this man's story; yet he was doubtful. He made one more attempt to get at the truth. "Who was this man you struggled with?" he asked. "I don't know--I could not see much of him because we were fighting hard, my rye. But I've often thought he was the same cove as I heard the steps of when I tusselled with Marshall." "How could you tell that?" "I can't tell, rye," was the candid response, "but I feel it was the same. When I heard of the murder next morning, I knew he'd killed Jenner to get that pocket-book; but the lady she said she didn't know. I told her it was Jenner, and she thought I'd tackled him going to the house; but it was when the man had left the house, and then Jenner was inside--dead." Mr. Cass had by this time learnt as much as he was capable of taking in; and the mystery of the murder was deeper than ever. He resolved that he would go away and think the matter over quietly. "I will go now," he said. "And give me up to the peelers?" asked Job, with a scowl. "No, I am doubtful now if you are guilty. I cannot say; but I shall not tell the police just now; I will see you again. One thing, don't go near Mrs. Marshall." And he left, his brain in a perfect whirl.