"Oh, you have your suspicions?" asked Moreland, looking at him.

"I have."

"Then who do you think murdered Whyte?"

Mr. Gorby paused a moment, and then said deliberately: "I have an
idea--but I am not certain--when I am certain, I'll speak."

"You think Fitzgerald killed my friend," said Moreland. "I see it in
your face."

Mr. Gorby smiled." Perhaps," he said, ambiguously. "Wait till I'm
certain."




CHAPTER VII.



THE WOOL KING.


The old Greek legend of Midas turning everything he touched into gold,
is truer than most people imagine. Mediaeval superstition changed the
human being who possessed such a power into the philosopher's stone--the
stone which so many alchemists sought in the dark ages. But we of