Collingwood took a closer look at Jabez Naylor. He saw that he was an
observant lad, evidently of superior intelligence--a good specimen of
the sharp town lad, well trained in a modern elementary school.

"Oh?" he said. "Nothing particular before half-past four, eh? Did he do
something particular after half-past four?"

"There was a post came in just about then, sir," answered Jabey. "There
was an American letter--that's it, sir--just in front of you. Mr. Bartle
read it, and asked me if we'd got a good clear copy of Hopkinson's
_History of Barford_. I reminded him that there was a copy amongst the
books that had been bought from Mallathorpe's Mill some time ago."

"Books that had belonged to Mr. John Mallathorpe, who was killed?" asked
Collingwood, who was fully acquainted with the chimney accident.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Bartle bought a lot of books that Mr. Mallathorpe had at
the Mill--local books. They're there in that corner: they were put there
when I fetched them, and he'd never looked over them since,
particularly."

"Well--and this _History of Barford_? You reminded him of it?"

"I got it out for him, sir. He sat down--where you're sitting--and began
to examine it. He said something about it being a nice copy, and he'd
get it off that night--that's it, sir: I didn't read it, of course. And
then he took some papers out of a pocket that's inside it, and I heard
him say 'Bless my soul--who'd have thought it!'"

Collingwood picked up the book which the boy indicated--a thick,