"Dead--yes! And murdered, too! And--"

He was about to mention the hurrying young man, but they had just then
arrived at the mouth of the passage, and the policeman once more drew out
his whistle and blew more insistently than before.

"There's my sergeant and inspector not far off," he remarked. "Some of
'em'll be on the spot in a minute or two. Now then, sir."

He marched down the passage to the dead man, glanced at the lamp, and
turning on his own lantern, directed its light on the body.

"God bless me!" he muttered. "Mr. Ashton!"

"You know him?" said Viner.

"Gent that came to live at number seven in your square a while back,
Mr. Viner," answered the policeman. "Australian or New Zealander, I
fancy. He's gone right enough, sir! And--knifed! You didn't see anybody
about, sir?"

"Yes," replied Viner, "that's just it. As I turned into the passage, I
met a young fellow running out of it in a great hurry--he ran into me,
and then, shot off across the road, Westbourne Grove way. Then I came
along and found--this!"

The policeman bent lower and suddenly put a knowing finger on certain of
the dead man's pockets.

"Robbed!" he said. "No watch there, anyway, and nothing where you'd