The Birmingham age-herald., 1909-05-09

ful, indifferent. '.No, mo-" said she. T notcny."
 A few minutes afterward, however, she begged Sir Leicester Dedlock to ring for her maid to help her to her room, com plaining of faintness from the trying wea ther.
 MT Tulkinghorn, rusty, mute, close, in serutable went home and asked his clerk carelessly who had copied certain docu ment. The answer was that 1t was loCger of Mr Krook. That gentleman toll his respected and learned friend of the law that the man was queer, secret character who called himself Memo, so black humored and ghostly that he be- lieved he would sell himself to the devil if that gentleman ever were foolish enough to buy what he can have for nothing.
 MT Tulkinghorn borrowed a candle and went to the lodger's room. On a low bed he saw a man, dressed in shirt and trousers. His feet were bare, his hair was ragged, the room was foul and filthy, there was a strange acrid odor in the place. Mr. Tulkinghorn looked sharply at the yellow face. The eyes were open, but the man did not stir He sniffed the air again. "Opiuml" muttered he. A few minutes afterward he called aloud to Krook that his lodger had committed suicide.
 They buried him in due and disorderly course of law, after an inquest with much drinking in the nearby public house, a good deal of laughter over the coroner s witty sallies, and good deal of majestic discipline of the inquisitive populace by. the majestic beadle.
 IT. a hemmed-in church yard, with houses Joking down on every side, in a filtered, pestiferous patch of ground, they lowered their departed fellow man few feet into the ground, to be raised again in corruption and stalk, an averaging ghost, in the form of sickness and epi- demic. Then they turned away with a joke and left him lying behind the iron gate that could not shut in the poisoned air-alone, save for a slouching creature in rags and filth, who held the iron gate with his hands and looked in for a. while and
 
 the steps and the archway, muttering hcaTsely, "He was very good to me He was very good to poor Jo, he was" So the beggarly law writer was for gotten by all except Joe and one other. A professional collector of secrets, MT. Tul- kinghorn, followed up his quest as de- votedy as any collector of anything from butte rifles to stamps.
 Thus it happened that not many days elapsed before MT. Tulkinghorn presented hil self again with professional respect fitness before Lady Deadlock to tell her that he had found the writer of the docu- ment which had gained the honor of her passing notice.
 "l found him." said he, but l found him dead. He lay in miserable lodging, wretched, ill-kempt, so neglected that [ shculd have considered him the common ] est of the common; but the surgeon had notion that he had been something bet l tsv once"
 And was there no clue to what he had been?" asked Lady Dedlock, politely sti1ng a yawn.
 None, said the old lawyer. There was an old portmanteau-but no, there | was no clue"
 He looked very steadily at Lady Ded- lock while he spoke. Lady Dedlock looked very steadily at him. Then she gathered mp her wrappings. and, as MT. Tulxing- horn held open the door for her, she swept impassively by him, with her usual fatigued manner and insolent grace.