of mine!” 

 Mr. Marigold mustered Desmond in one swift, comprehensive look. 

 “I won’t give you my hand, Major,” the detective said, looking down at Desmond’s proffered one, “for I’m in a filthy mess and no error. But won’t you come in, sir?” he said to the Chief and led the way across the mosaic tile pathway to the front door which stood open. 

 “I don’t think this is anything in your line, sir,” said Mr. Marigold to the Chief as the three men entered the house, “it’s nothing but just a common burglary. The old man evidently heard a noise and coming down, surprised the burglar who lost his head and killed him. The only novel thing about the whole case is that the old party was shot with a pistol and not bludgeoned, as is usually the case in affairs of this kind. And I shouldn’t have thought that the man who did it was the sort that carries a gun...” 

 “Then you know who did it?” asked the Chief quietly. 

 “I think I can safely say I do, sir,” said Mr. Marigold with the reluctant air of one who seldom admits anything to be a fact, “I think I can go as far as that! And we’ve got our man under lock and key!” 

 “That’s a smart piece of work, Marigold,” said the Chief. 

 “No, sir,” replied the other, “you could hardly call it that. He just walked into the arms of a constable over there near Goodmayes Station with the swag on him. He’s an old hand... we’ve known him for a receiver for years! 

 “Who is it?” asked the Chief, “not one of my little friends, I suppose, eh, Marigold!” 

 “Dear me, no, sir,” answered Mr. Marigold, chuckling, “it’s one of old Mackwayte’s music-hall pals, name o’ Barney!” 

 

CHAPTER V. THE MURDER AT SEVEN KINGS

 “This is Mrs. Chugg, sir,” said Mr. Marigold, “the charwoman who found the body!” 

 The Chief and Desmond stood at the detective’s side in the Mackwaytes’ little dining-room. The room was in considerable disorder. There was a litter of paper, empty bottles, overturned cruets and other débris on the floor, evidence of the thoroughness with which the burglar had overhauled the cheap fumed oak sideboard which stood against the wall with doors and drawers open. In the corner, the little roll-top desk showed a great gash in the wood round the lock where it had been 

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