puzzled me—I don't know anything about it. But—it'll be a quarter's rent for that house. Look at the signatures!"
She laid a cheque before Melky and Mr. Penniket and stood by while they looked at it. There was nothing remarkable about the cheque—made out to Mr. Daniel Multenius or order for £36—except the two odd looking names at its foot—Chang Li: Chen Li. Otherwise, it was just like all other cheques—and it was on a local bank, in Edgware Road, and duly crossed. But Melky instantly observed the date, and put one of his long fingers to it.
"November 18th," he remarked. "The day he died. Did you notice that, Zillah?"
"Yes," answered Zillah. "It must have come in by post and he's thrown it, as he often did throw things, into that desk. Well—that's explained! That'll be the quarter's rent, then, for this furnished house, Mr. Penniket?"
"Evidently!" agreed the solicitor. "Of course, there's no need to give notice to these two foreigners—yet. It'll take a little time to settle the estate, and you can let them stay on awhile. I know who they are—your grandfather mentioned them—two medical students, of University College. They're all right. Well, now, that completes the schedule. As regards administering the estate—"
A sudden gentle but firm knock at the side-door brought Zillah to her feet again.
"I know that knock," she remarked. "It's Ayscough, the detective. I suppose he may come in, now?"
A moment later Ayscough, looking very grave and full
