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Page 88
"It mayn't be right," said Jettison. "But it's one. And
there's another--supposing he paid Collishaw that money on
behalf of somebody else? I've thought this business out right
and left, top-side and bottom-side, and hang me if I don't
feel certain there is somebody else! What did Ransford tell
us about Bryce and this old Harker--think of that! And yet,
according to Bryce, Harker is one of our old Yard men!--and
therefore ought to be above suspicion."
Mitchington suddenly started as if an idea had occurred to
him.
"I say, you know!" he exclaimed. "We've only Bryce's word for
it that Harker is an ex-detective. I never heard that he was
--if he is, he's kept it strangely quiet. You'd have thought
that he'd have let us know, here, of his previous calling--I
never heard of a policeman of any rank who didn't like to have
a bit of talk with his own sort about professional matters."
"Nor me," assented Jettison. "And as you say, we've only
Bryce's word. And, the more I think of it, the more I'm
convinced there's somebody--some man of whom you don't seem to
have the least idea--who's in this. And it may be that Bryce
is in with him. However--here's one thing I'm going to do at
once. Bryce gave us that information about the fifty pounds.
Now I'm going to tell Bryce straight out that I've gone into
that matter in my own fashion--a fashion he evidently never
thought of--and ask him to explain why he drew a similar
amount in gold. Come on round to his rooms."
But Bryce was not to be found at his rooms--had not been back
to his rooms, said his landlady, since he had ridden away
early in the morning: all she knew was that he had ordered his
dinner to be ready at his usual time that evening. With that
the two men had to be content, and they went back to the
police-station still discussing the situation. And they were
still discussing it an hour later when a telegram was handed
to Mitchington, who tore it open, glanced over its contents
and passed it to his companion who read it aloud.
"Meet me with Jettison Wrychester Station on arrival of
five-twenty express from London mystery cleared up guilty men
known--Ransford."
Jettison handed the telegram back.
"A man of his word!" he said. "He mentioned two days--he's
done it in one! And now, my lad--do you notice?--he says men,
not man! It's as I said--there's been more than one of 'em in
this affair. Now then--who are they?"
CHAPTER XXI
THE SAXONSTEADE ARMS
Bryce had ridden away on his bicycle from Wrychester that
morning intent on a new piece of diplomacy. He had sat up
thinking for some time after the two police officials had left
him at midnight, and it had occurred to him that there was a
man from whom information could be had of whose services he
had as yet made no use but who must be somewhere in the
neighbourhood--the man Glassdale. Glassdale had been in
Wrychester the previous evening; he could scarcely be far away
now; there was certainly one person who would know where he
could be found, and that person was the Duke of Saxonsteade.
Bryce knew the Duke to be an extremely approachable man, a
talkative, even a garrulous man, given to holding converse
with anybody about anything, and he speedily made up his mind
to ride over to Saxonsteade, invent a plausible excuse for his
call, and get some news out of his Grace. Even if Glassdale
had left the neighbourhood, there might be fragments of
evidence to pick up from the Duke, for Glassdale, he knew, had
given his former employer the information about the stolen
jewels and would, no doubt, have added more about his
acquaintance with Braden. And before Bryce came to his
dreamed-of master-stroke in that matter, there were one or two
thins he wanted to clear up, to complete his double net, and
he had an idea that an hour's chat with Glassdale would yield
all that he desired.
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