inquisitively at the inspector. He turned at once to Mrs.
Partingley.

"I hear there's been an accident to that gentleman I came in
with last night?" he said. "Is it anything serious? Your
ostler says--"

"These gentlemen have just come about it, sir," answered
the landlady. She glanced at Mitchington. "Perhaps you'll
tell--" she began.

"Was he a friend of yours, sir?" asked Mitchington. "A
personal friend?"

"Never saw him in my life before last night!" replied the tall
man. "We just chanced to meet in the train coming down from
London, got talking, and discovered we were both coming to the
same place--Wrychester. So--we came to this house together.
No--no friend of mine--not even an acquaintance--previous, of
course, to last night. Is--is it anything serious?"

"He's dead, sir," replied Mitchington. "And now we want to
know who he is."

"God bless my soul! Dead? You don't say so!" exclaimed Mr.
Dellingham. "Dear, dear! Well, I can't help you--don't know
him from Adam. Pleasant, well-informed man--seemed to have
travelled a great deal in foreign countries. I can tell you
this much, though," he went on, as if a sudden recollection
had come to him; "I gathered that he'd only just arrived in