"No, of course; for he owed me a precious lot of money;" and from habit he chuckled, but with something of a frown. "He could have given me a lot of trouble, but so could I him. My lawyers said he could not seriously affect me, but he might have annoyed me; and I did not care about the money, so I did not follow him; and, as the lawyers say, we turned our backs on one another." "Strangways," murmured the Rector, musingly. "Do you remember him now?" asked Sir Jekyl. "No; that is, I'm not sure. I was in orders then though, and could hardly have met him. I am sure I should recollect him if I had. What was he like?" "A nasty-looking Scotch dog, with freckles--starved and tall--a hungry hound--large hands and feet--as ugly a looking cur as you ever beheld." "But Deverell, poor fellow, was a bit of a dandy--wasn't he? How did he come to choose such a companion?" "Well, maybe he was not quite as bad as he describes, and his family was good, I believe; but there must have been something more, he hung about him so. Yes, he _was_ a most objectionable-looking fellow--so awkward, and not particularly well dressed; but a canny rascal, and knew what he was about. I could not make out what use Deverell made of him, nor exactly what advantage he made of Deverell." "I can't for the life of me, see, Jekyl, anything in it except a resemblance, and that is positively nothing, and a Christian name, that is all, and Guy is no such uncommon one. As for Strangways, he does not enter into it at all--a mere accidental association. Where is that Strangways--is he living?" "I don't know now; ten years ago he was, and Pelter and Crowe thought he was going to do me some mischief, a prosecution or something, they thought, to extort money; but I knew they were wrong. I had a reason--at least it was unlikely, because I rather think he had repaid me that money about then. A year or so before a large sum of money was lodged to my account by Herbert Strangways, that was his name, at the International Bank in Lombard Street; in fact it was more than I thought he owed me--interest, I suppose, and that sort of thing. I put Pelter and Crowe in his track, but they could make out nothing. The bank people could not help us. Unluckily I was away at the time and the lodgment was two months old when I heard of it. There were several raw Scotch-looking rascals, they said, making lodgments about then, and they could not tell exactly what sort of fellow made this. I wanted to make out about him. What do you think of it?" "I don't see anything suspicious in it. He owed you the money and chose to pay." "He was protected by the Statute of Limitations, my lawyer said, and I could not have recovered it. Doesn't it look odd?" "Those Scotch fellows." "He's not Scotch, though." "Well, whatever he is, if he has good blood he's proud, perhaps, and would rather pay what he owes than not."