it--just as it was. Why do you ask?"

"It's a very fine-bound book," remarked Melky. "I should ha' thought, now,
that if it had been left in a 'bus, the conductor would ha' noticed it,
quick."

"So should I," said Levendale. "Anything else?" he added, glancing at
Ayscough.

"Well, no, Mr. Levendale, thank you," replied the detective. "At least not
just now. But--the fact is, Mr. Multenius appears to have come to his
death by violence--and I want to know if whoever took your book into his
shop had anything to do with it."

"Ah!--however, I can't tell you any more," said Levendale. "Please see
that my book's taken great care of and returned to me, sergeant. Good-
morning."

Outside, Ayscough consulted his watch and looked at his companions.

"Time we were going on to the inquest," he remarked. "Come on--we'll step
round there together. You're both wanted, you know."

"I'll join you at the Coroner's court, Mr. Ayscough," said Melky. "I've
got a few minutes' business--shan't be long."

He hurried away by a short cut to Praed Street and turned into Mrs.
Goldmark's establishment.

Mrs. Goldmark herself was still ministering to Zillah, but the young woman