"He knew no one in the neighbourhood?"
"No one to speak of. A few local gents would drop in occasional to see how he was getting on, and then a lot o' newspaper chaps came down from London." There was that in Alf Pond's tone which seemed to suggest that in his opinion such questions were foolish.
"Did he receive any letters or telegrams yesterday?" was the next question.
"Letters!" Alf Pond laughed sardonically. "Shoals of 'em. He'd turn 'em all over to Sandy Lane," indicating a red-headed man on the right.
"He wasn't much at writing letters," said Sandy Lane, by way of explanation.
"His hands were made for better things," cried Alf Pond scornfully, and the sparring-partners nodded their agreement.
"Did he turn over to you the whole of his correspondence?" asked
Malcolm Sage, turning to Sandy Lane.
"Sometimes he'd keep a letter," broke in Alf Pond, "but not often.
Sort of personal," he added, as if to explain the circumstance.
"From a woman, perhaps?" suggested Malcolm Sage, taking off his hat and stroking the back of his head.
"Woman!" cried Alf Pond scornfully; "Charley hadn't no use for women, or he wouldn't have been the boxer he was."