face, but that's all I can say. I suppose," he continued, looking
diffidently at the inspector, as if he half-expected to be laughed at for
the suggestion he was about to make, "I suppose you don't believe that
this unfortunate fellow may have some explanation of his possession of
Mr. Ashton's ring?"

Drillford, who had been replacing the ring in a safe, locked the
door upon it with a snap, and turned on his questioner with a look
which became more and more businesslike and official with each
succeeding word.

"Now, Mr. Viner," he said, "you look at it from our point of view. An
elderly gentleman is murdered and robbed. A certain man is seen--by you,
as it happens--running away as fast as he can from the scene of the
murder. Next morning that very man is found trying to get rid of a ring
which, without doubt, was taken from the murdered man's finger. What do
you think? Or--another question--what could we, police officials, do?"

"Nothing but what you're doing, I suppose," said Viner. "Still--there may
be a good deal that's--what shall I say?--behind all this."

"It's for him to speak," observed Drillford, nodding in the direction of
the cells. "He's got a bell within reach of his fingers; he's only got to
ring it and to ask for me or any solicitor he likes to name. But--we
shall see!"

Nothing had been seen or heard, in the way hinted at by Drillford, when,
an hour later, Viner, waiting in the neighbouring police-court, was aware
that the humdrum, sordid routine was about to be interrupted by something
unusual. The news of an arrest in connection with the Lonsdale Passage