and dexterity that was little short of marvellous. As far as the representative of the journal had been able to ascertain, the body was still unidentified, and, after advancing an extravagant theory of his own, the enterprising scribe terminated with the stereotyped phrase, invariably used on such occasions, declaring that the police, "though very reticent upon the matter, were prosecuting diligent inquiries."
"Remarkable!" ejaculated Trethowen, when he had finished reading this account. "I wonder who the victim is, and what object anybody could have had in murdering him? So daring, too—in a public conveyance in the very heart of London. There was some motive, I suppose; but evidently the person who committed the crime was no novice, and went to work with swiftness and caution for the purpose of baffling the police. I've been thinking so much of my own affairs to-day that the remembrance of last night's tragedy had entirely gone out of my head. Yet, after all, why should I puzzle my brains over a case that will require all the wit and cunning of skilled detectives before the guilty person is revealed?"
He cast the paper aside, and passed his hand wearily across his aching brow.
"No," he continued, after a brief silence. "I've got too much to think of with my own affairs. Here am I, ruined irretrievably, with no hope beyond that of dragging out a miserable existence in a poverty-stricken sort of way, while my friends laugh over my misfortunes, and make themselves fat upon what they've won from me by foul means as well as fair. Bah! I've been a downright consummate fool, and deserve all this punishment; by Heaven I do!"
And he sprang to his feet, and again paced the room.
