"And why, pray?"
"Well, a jackass works like a slave, don't he? And what does he get out of it? Lots of blows, plenty of cuss words, and a little fodder. It's the same with yours truly."
"Very well, my man, have your joke. But now tell me your name. I am a detective."
"The devil a much I care for that. I ain't got nothin' to hide. My name's Randal, if you must have it. Jack Randal."
"Very good. Now I want to ask you a few questions about the funeral of Mr. Quadrant."
"Ask away. Nobody's stoppin' you."
"You assisted in preparing the body for the coffin, I think?"
"Yes, and helped to put him in it."
"Have you any idea how he got out of it again?" asked Mr. Barnes suddenly.
"Nit. Leastways, not any worth mentionin', since I can't prove what I might think."