The Man Cataldi

"Nothing," the old fellow declared promptly. "Since that night I've earned an honest living. I'm a waiter in a cafe in the Avenue de la Gare."

"A most excellent decision," laughed the well-dressed man. "It is not everyone who can afford to be honest in these hard times. I wish I could be, but I find it impossible. Now, tell me, Giulio, what do you know about the affair at the Villa Amette? The boy, Henfrey, went there to demand of Mademoiselle how his father died. She refused to tell him, angry words arose--and he shot her. Now, isn't that your theory--the same as that held by the police?"

The old man looked straight into his visitor's face for a few moments. Then he replied quite calmly: "I know nothing, Signor Benton--and I don't want to know anything. I've told the police all I know. Indeed, when they began to inquire into my antecedents I was not very reassured, I can tell you."

"I should think not," laughed Benton. "Still, they never suspected you to be the man wanted for the Morel affair--an unfortunate matter that was."

"Yes," sighed the old fellow. "Please do not mention it," and he turned away to the window as though to conceal his guilty countenance.

"You mean that you know something--but you won't tell it!" Benton said.

"I know nothing," was the old fellow's stubborn reply.

"But you know that the young fellow, Henfrey, is guilty!" exclaimed Benton. "Come! you were there at the time! You heard high words between them--didn't you?"