could engage in his secret task of excavating a small
portion of Paradise in the rear of Richard Jenkins's tomb, another
strange development came. As the dark fell over the old city that night
and he was thinking of setting out on his mission, Mitchington came
in, carrying two sheets of paper, obviously damp from the press, in his
hand. He looked at Bryce with an expression of wonder.

"Here's a queer go!" he said. "I can't make this out at all! Look at
these big handbills--but perhaps you've seen 'em? They're being posted
all over the city--we've had a bundle of 'em thrown in on us."

"I haven't been out since lunch," remarked Bryce. "What are they?"

Mitchington spread out the two papers on the table, pointing from one to
the other.

"You see?" he said. "Five Hundred Pounds Reward!--One Thousand Pounds
Reward! And--both out at the same time, from different sources!"

"What sources?" asked Bryce, bending over the bills. "Ah--I see. One
signed by Phipps & Maynard, the other by Beachcroft. Odd, certainly!"

"Odd?" exclaimed Mitchington. "I should think so! But, do you see,
doctor? that one--five hundred reward--is offered for information of any
nature relative to the deaths of John Braden and James Collishaw, both
or either. That amount will be paid for satisfactory information by
Phipps & Maynard. And Phipps & Maynard are Ransford's solicitors! That
bill, sir, comes from him! And now the other, the thousand pound one,
that offers the reward to any one who can give definite information as
to the circumstances attending the death of John Braden--to be paid by
Mr. Beachcroft. And he's Mr. Folliot's solicitor! So--that comes from
Mr. Folliot. What has he to do with it? And are these two putting their
heads together--or are these bills quite independent of each other? Hang
me if I understand it!"

Bryce read and re-read the contents of the two bills. And then he
thought for awhile before speaking.

"Well," he said at last, "there's probably this in it--the Folliots are
very wealthy people. Mrs. Folliot, it's pretty well known, wants her son
to marry Miss Bewery--Dr. Ransford's ward. Probably she doesn't wish
any suspicion to hang over the family. That's all I can suggest. In
the other case, Ransford wants to clear himself. For don't forget this,
Mitchington!--somewhere, somebody may know something! Only something.
But that something might clear Ransford of the suspicion that's
undoubtedly been cast upon him. If you'