Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-09-11

 "Yes, and I can prove It. The boy Tray-and I can lay my hands on him saw you; also Bart Tawsey, the shop. man. You left a handful of sugar. though why you did so instead of eat. ing 1t can't understand" -s' Hokar's face lighted up, and he show ed his teeth disdainfully. "Oh, you sahibs know nozzin'v said he, spread ing out his lean hands. "Ze shops-ah, yis. there, yis, but use no roomal." Not then, but you did later" Hokar shook his head. T use no roomal. Eat sahib one eye-bad, yer bad. Bhowanee no have one eye. No Bhungees, no Bhats, no"-
 What are you talking about?" said Hurd angrily. His reading had not told him that no maimed persons could be offered to the goddess of the thugs. Bhungees meant sweepers, and Bhats bards, both of which classes were spared by the stranglers. You killed that man. Now, who told you to kill him.?
 q know nozzin'. no kill. Bhowa- nee no take one eye mans"
 For want of an interpreter Hurl found it difficult to carry on the con- versation. He rose and determined to postpone further examination till he would get some one who understood the Hlndoo tongue But in the mean time Hokar might run away, and Hurd rather regretted that he had been so precipitate. However, he nodded to the man and went off, pretty sure he would not fly at once.
 Then Hurd went to the village police office and told bucolic constable keep his eye on Miss Junk's "fureiner," as he learned Hokar was called. The policeman, a smooth faced individual, promised to do so after Hurd pro- duced his credentials, and sauntered toward the Red Pig at some distance from the detectives heels. A timely question about the curry revealed, by the mouth of Miss Junk, that Hokar was still in the kitchen. But he do seem alarmed like" said Matilda, lay ing the cloth.
 Let's hope he won't spoil the cur ry," remarked Hurd. Then, knowing Hokar was safe, he went into the bar to make the acquaintance of his other victim.
 Captain Jarvey Jessop quite an- swered to the description given by Pash He was large and sailorlike, with red hair mixed with gray and a red beard that scarcely concealed the scar running from temple to mouth. He had drunk enough to make him cheerful and was quite willing to fall into conversation with Hurd, who ex- plained himself unnecessarily. I'm commercial gent" said the detective, calling for two runs, plain, "and l like talking" .. .--
 Me, too," growled the sailor, grasp ing his glass. I'm here on what you'd call visit but go back to my home tomorrow Then it's ho for Callao," he shouted in singsong voice.
 Hurd knew the fierce old chanty and sized Captain Jarvey up at once. He was of the buccaneer type, and there was little he would not do to make money and have a roaring time. Fail ing Hokar, with his deadly handker- chief, here was the man who might have killed Aaron Norman, Drink up," shouted Hurd in his turn, well have some more.
 "on no condition. is extradition.
 Allowed in Callao."
 "Gum," said Captain Jessop, you know the chanty."
 Hurd winked. 'I've been round about in my time"
 Jessop stretched out a huge hand. Put it there, mate." said he, with a roar like a foghorn, and drink up along O me. My treat"
 Hurd nodded and became jovial. "On condition you join me at dinner. They make good curries here.''
 I've had curry" said Captain Jes- sop heavily, fin Colombo and Hong kong frequent, but Hokar's curries are the best"
 An" said Hurd in friendly, curious way. "So you know this shanty?"
 Jessop looked at him with contempt. "Know this shantyf" said he, with a