"Not for the last two weeks," replied Moreland. "I have been up
country, and it was only on arriving back in town tonight that I heard
about the murder at all, as my landlady gave me a garbled account of
it, but I never for a moment connected it with Whyte, and I came down
here to see him, as I had agreed to do when I left. Poor fellow! poor
fellow! poor fellow!" and much overcome, he buried his face in his
hands.

Mr. Gorby was touched by his evident distress, and even Mrs. Hableton
permitted a small tear to roll down one hard cheek as a tribute of
sorrow and sympathy. Presently Moreland raised his head, and spoke to
Gorby in a husky tone.

"Tell me all about it," he said, leaning his cheek on his hand.
"Everything you know."

He placed his elbows on the table, and buried his face in his hands
again, while the detective sat down and related all that he knew about
Whyte's murder. When it was done he lifted up his head, and looked
sadly at the detective.

"If I had been in town," he said, "this would not have happened, for I
was always beside Whyte."

"You knew him very well, sir?" said the detective, in a sympathetic
tone.

"We were like brothers," replied Moreland, mournfully.