nner, to which the other guests staying in the inn, namely,
Mr. Peters and the Scotland Yard gentleman--the little man with the
French name--might be invited. This important point settled, Mr. Franklin
caught an early train, and was absent all day, being, in fact, closeted
with Superintendent Fowler and a Treasury solicitor.

Furneaux was sound asleep long after twelve o'clock, and swore at Tomlin
in French when the landlord ventured to arouse him. Tomlin went
downstairs scratching his head.

"Least said soonest mended," he communed, "but we may all be murdered in
our beds if them's the sort of 'tecs we 'ave to look arter us."

However, he cheered up towards night. Ingerman, a lawyer, and some
pressmen, arriving for the inquest, filled every available room, and the
kitchen was redolent of good fare. All parties gathered in the
dining-room, of course, and Ingerman had an eye for Mr. Franklin's party.
The scraps of talk he overheard were nothing more exciting than the
prospects of a certain horse for the Stewards' Cup. Peters had the tip
straight from the stables. A racing certainty, with a stone in hand.

After dinner the financier was surprised when Furneaux approached, and
tapped him professionally on the shoulder.

"A word with you outside," he said.

Ingerman was irritated--perhaps slightly alarmed.

"Can't we talk here?" he said, in that singularly melodious voice of his.

"Better not, but I shan't detain you more than five minutes."

"Anything my legal adviser might wish to hear?"

"Not from me. Tell him yourself afterwards, if you like."

In the quiet street the detective suddenly linked arms with his
companion. Probably he smiled sardonically when he felt a telltale quiver
run through Ingerman's lanky frame.

"You've brought down Norris, I see?" he began.

"Yes."

"Meaning to make things hot for Grant tomorrow?"

"Meaning to give justice the materials--"

"Cut the cackle, Isidor. I know you, and it's high time you knew me.
Grant has retained Belcher. Ah! that gets you, does it? You haven't
forgotten Belcher. Now, be reasonable! Or, rather, don't run your head
into a noose. Grant had no more to do with the murder of your wife than
you had. Call off Norris, and Grant withdraws Belcher. Twig? It's dead
easy, because the Treasury solicitor will simply ask for another week's
adjournment, as the police are not ready to go on. In the meantime, you
pay off Norris, and save your face. Is it a deal?"

"