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Page 109
"Then--it was the other man!" exclaimed Bryce. "Now then, who
is he?"
Folliot replied with a shrewd glance.
"A man who by giving away another man gave himself away would
be a damned fool!" he answered. "If there is another man--"
"As if there must be!" interrupted Bryce.
"Then he's safe!" concluded Folliot. "You'll get nothing from
me about him!"
"And nobody can get at you except through him?" asked Bryce.
"That's about it," assented Folliot laconically.
Bryce laughed cynically.
"A pretty coil!" he said with a sneer. "Here! You talked
about my price. I'm quite content to hold my tongue if you'd
tell me something about what happened seventeen years ago."
"What?" asked Folliot.
"You knew Brake, you must have known his family affairs," said
Bryce. "What became of Brake's wife and children when he went
to prison?"
Folliot shook his head, and it was plain to Bryce that his
gesture of dissent was genuine.
"You're wrong," he answered. "I never at any time knew
anything of Brake's family affairs. So little indeed, that I
never even knew he was married."
Bryce rose to his feet and stood staring.
"What!" he exclaimed. "You mean to tell me that, even now,
you don't know that Brake had two children, and that--that
--oh, it's incredible!"
"What's incredible?" asked Folliot. "What are you talking
about?"
Bryce in his eagerness and surprise grasped Folliot's arm and
shook it.
"Good heavens, man!" he said. "Those two wards of Ransford's
are Brake's girl and boy! Didn't you know that, didn't you?"
"Never!" answered Folliot. "Never! And who's Ransford, then?
I never heard Brake speak of any Ransford! What game is all
this? What--"
Before Bryce could reply, Folliot suddenly started, thrust his
companion aside and went to one of the windows. A sharp
exclamation from him took Bryce to his side. Folliot lifted a
shaking hand and pointed into the garden.
"There!" he whispered. "Hell and--What's this mean?"
Bryce looked in the direction pointed out. Behind the pergola
of rambler roses the figures of men were coming towards the
old well-house led by one of Folliot's gardeners. Suddenly
they emerged into full view, and in front of the rest was
Mitchington and close behind him the detective, and behind
him--Glassdale!
CHAPTER XXVI
THE OTHER MAN
It was close on five o'clock when Glassdale, leaving Folliot
at his garden door, turned the corner into the quietness of
the Precincts. He walked about there a while, staring at the
queer old houses with eyes which saw neither fantastic gables
nor twisted chimneys. Glassdale was thinking. And the result
of his reflections was that he suddenly exchanged his idle
sauntering for brisker steps and walked sharply round to the
police-station, where he asked to see Mitchington.
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