nt. on sixty! Exactly! Scrivens--young Pillin had said! But Crow &
Donkin, not Scriven & Coles, were old Heythorp's solicitors. What could
that mean, save that the old man wanted to cover the tracks of a secret
commission, and had handled the matter through solicitors who did not
know the state of his affairs! But why Pillin's solicitors? With this
sale just going through, it must look deuced fishy to them too. Was it
all a mare's nest, after all? In such circumstances he himself would
have taken the matter to a London firm who knew nothing of anybody.
Puzzled, therefore, and rather disheartened, feeling too that touch of
liver which was wont to follow his old Madeira, he went up to bed and
woke his wife to ask her why the dickens they couldn't always have soup
like that!

Next day he continued to brood over his puzzle, and no fresh light came;
but having a matter on which his firm and Scrivens' were in touch, he
decided to go over in person, and see if he could surprise something out
of them. Feeling, from experience, that any really delicate matter would
only be entrusted to the most responsible member of the firm, he had
asked to see Scriven himself, and just as he had taken his hat to go, he
said casually:

"By the way, you do some business for old Mr. Heythorp, don't you?"

Scriven, raising his eyebrows a little, murmured: "Er--no," in exactly
the tone Mr. Ventnor himself used when he wished to imply that though he
didn't as a fact do business, he probably soon would. He knew therefore
that the answer was a true one. And non-plussed, he hazarded:

"Oh! I thought you did, in regard to a Mrs. Larne."

This time he had certainly drawn blood of sorts, for down came Scriven's
eyebrows, and he said:

"Mrs. Larne--we know a Mrs. Larne, but not in that connection. Why?"

"Oh! Young Pillin told me--"

"Young Pillin? Why, it's his---!" A little pause, and then: "Old Mr.
Heythorp's solicitors are Crow & Donkin, I believe."

Mr. Ventnor held out his hand. "Yes, yes," he said; "goodbye. Glad to
have got that matter settled up," and out he went, and down the street,
important, smiling. By George! He had got it! "It's his father"--Scriven
had been going to say. What a plant! Exactly! Oh! neat! Old Pillin had
made the settlement direct; and the solicitors were in the dark; that
disposed of his difficulty about them. No money had passed between old
Pillin and old Heythorp not a penny. Oh! neat! But not neat enough for
Cha