"Thank you, sir. You're a brick. No fear of me meltin' this little lot. The missus will be on 'em like a bird w'en I tell her." And the man spat upon the coins with evident relish as he handled them. "One word more," said Bruce. "Where was this man tried?" "At the West London Police Court." "You can get me his real name and post it to me?" "Sure, sir. Anyway, I'll try." "I am greatly obliged to you." "An' 'as my yarn bin of any use to you, sir?" "The greatest. It has solved a puzzle. However, I will see you again. Good-bye. Don't forget to write." "Cornhill is the direct line from Leadenhall Street," mused Claude, when he was alone. "Any one coming to Sloane Square from Dodge & Co.'s office would pass through it. Upon my word, things look very black against Mensmore. Yet I cannot believe it." CHAPTER XVII A POSSIBLE EXPLANATION Bruce now had several lines of inquiry open. Apart from the main and vital question as to the exact method of Lady Dyke's death, and the identity of the person responsible for it, a number of important matters required attention. Why had Jane Harding quitted her situation so suddenly? Whence did she obtain the money that enabled her to blossom forth as Marie le Marchant? Who was Sydney H. Corbett? Why did Mensmore adopt a false name; and, in any case, why adopt the name of Corbett? Why did Mrs. Hillmer exhibit such sudden terror lest her brother might be guilty? Whom did Mrs. Hillmer marry? Was her husband alive or dead? Was the man who conveyed Lady Dyke's body from Raleigh Mansions to Putney responsible also for her death? Finally, why did he select that particular portion of the Thames banks for the bestowal of his terrible burden? Many other minor features suggested themselves for careful attention, but the barrister knew that if he elucidated some of the major questions the rest would answer themselves. The last query promised to yield a good crop of information should it be satisfactorily dealt with. Turning to his notes, he found that the former owner of the Putney house was a tutor or preparatory schoolmaster, named the Rev. Septimus Childe. Could it be that this was the school in which both Sir Charles Dyke and Mensmore were fellow-students? If so, Bruce failed to see why he should not forthwith place the whole of the facts in his possession at the service of the police, and allow the law to take its course. On this supposition, the case against Mensmore was very black; not, indeed, incapable of explanation--for circumstantial evidence occasionally plays strange pranks with logic--but of such a grave nature that no private individual would be justified in keeping his knowledge to himself. The deduction was intensely disagreeable; but Bruce resolved to coerce his thoughts, and do that which was right, irrespective of consequences.