Today, in London, where I met old Harker at the bank
at which Brake had lodged the money he had brought from Australia, the
whole thing was made clear by the last agent of mine who has had the
searching in hand. And it shows how men may easily disappear from a
certain round of life, and turn up in another years after! When those
two men cheated your father out of that money, they disappeared and
separated--each, no doubt, with his share. Flood went off to some
obscure place in the North of England; Wraye went over to America. He
evidently made a fortune there; knocked about the world for awhile;
changed his name to Folliot, and under that name married a wealthy
widow, and settled down here in Wrychester to grow roses! How and where
he came across Flood again is not exactly clear, but we knew that a
few years ago Flood was in London, in very poor circumstances, and the
probability is that it was then when the two men met again. What we do
know is that Folliot, as an influential man here, got Flood the post
which he has held, and that things have resulted as they have. And
that's all!--all that I need tell you at present. There are details, but
they're of no importance."

Mary remained silent, but Dick got up with his hands in his pockets.

"There's one thing I want to know," he said. "Which of those two chaps
killed my father? You said it was accident--but was it? I want to know
about that! Are you saying it was accident just to let things down a
bit? Don't! I want to know the truth."

"I believe it was accident," answered Ransford. "I listened most
carefully just now to Fladgate's account of what happened. I firmly
believe the man was telling the truth. But I haven't the least doubt
that Folliot poisoned Collishaw--not the least. Folliot knew that if
the least thing came out about Fladgate, everything would come out about
himself."

Dick turned away to leave the room.

"Well, Folliot's done for!" he remarked. "I don't care about him, but I
wanted to know for certain about the other."

* * * * *

When Dick had gone, and Ransford and Mary were left alone, a deep
silence fell on the room. Mary was apparently deep in thought, and
Ransford, after a glance at her, turned away and looked out of the
window at the sunlit Close, thinking of the tragedy he had just
witnessed. And he had become so absorbed in his thoughts of it that
he started at feeling a touch on his arm and looking round s