that Grell did come
to see me. All he wanted was money. He is frightfully hard up, and
apparently the operations of your people have harassed him dreadfully."

"Did you let him have any money?"

Fairfield shook his head. "No; I absolutely refused unless he would come
out of concealment and try to justify himself. With that he went. He was
here less than twenty minutes or half an hour."

The detective played with his watch-chain. "Yes, yes. I don't see that
you could have done anything else. I suppose you made no suggestion to
him?"

"In what way?"

Gently stroking his chin, Foyle answered in a soft voice, "The other day
a man came to see me. He was a man of high social standing and had
fallen into the clutches of a gang of blackmailers. He wanted us to take
action, but he absolutely refused to go into the witness-box to give
evidence. I pressed him, pointing out that that was the only way in
which we could bring home anything against them. 'It will ruin me,' he
declared. 'Is there no other way it can be put a stop to?' I replied
that we were helpless. 'What can I do?' he cried. 'Is the thing they
accuse you of true?' I asked. He flushed and admitted that it was.
'Well,' I said, 'if you ask my advice as a man and not as an official, I
should meet with an accident.' But he would not take my advice," he
concluded, with a keen glance at the baronet, on whom the parable was
not lost.

"I did suggest that way out," admitted the baronet reluctantly. "He
wouldn't hear of it. And Grell is not a coward."

"He gave no hint of where he was going when he left you?"

"Not the slightest."

Foyle picked up his hat. There was nothing more of value to be gained by
prolonging the interview. "I am very much obliged to you, Sir Ralph," he
said. "Perhaps you will keep in touch with me in case anything arises.
Good morning."

Long ago Foyle had made up his mind as to the probable course that would
be taken by Robert Grell. The man was evidently driven into a corner, or
he would scarcely have taken the enormous risk of going to see Ralph
Fairfield. There remained two things, the detective reasoned, which he
might now do. Penniless and without help, he might try to plunge back
into the obscurity of underground London, or he might try some other
friend or acquaintance. But every person he confided in would increase
his risk. Fairfield was his closest friend, and yet he had declined to
lift a finger. Would he go to men he was less i