"Family honour!" he said. "Yes, yes, that's right, of course. It would be a dreadful thing to see a nephew hanged for the murder of his uncle--quite right!" "A much more dreadful thing to stand by and see an innocent man hanged, without moving heaven and earth to clear him," commented the Professor. "Come now, I helped to establish the fact that Barthorpe visited Portman Square that night--Tertius there helped too, by his quickness in seeing that the half-eaten sandwich had been bitten into by a man who had lost two front teeth, which, of course, was Barthorpe's case--so the least we can do is to bestir ourselves now that we believe him to have told the truth in that statement." "But how exactly are we to bestir ourselves?" asked Mr. Halfpenny. "I suggest a visit to Jacob Herapath's bankers, first of all," answered the Professor. "I haven't heard that any particular inquiry has been made. Did you make any, Halfpenny?" "Jacob's bankers are Bittleston, Stocks and Bittleston," replied the old lawyer. "I did make it in my way to drop in there and to see Mr. Playbourne, the manager of their West End branch, in Piccadilly. He assured me that there was nothing whatever out of the common in Jacob Herapath's transactions with them just before his death, and nothing at all in their particulars of his banking account which could throw any possible light on his murder." "In his opinion," said the Professor, caustically, "in his opinion, Halfpenny! But--you don't know what our opinion might be. Now, I suggest that we all go at once to see this Mr. Playbourne; there's ample time before the bank closes for the day." "Very well," assented Mr. Halfpenny. "All the same, I'm afraid Playbourne will only say just what he said before." Mr. Playbourne, a good typical specimen of the somewhat old-fashioned bank manager, receiving this formidable deputation of four gentlemen in his private room, said precisely what he had said before, and seemed astonished to think that any light upon such an unpleasant thing as a murder could possibly be derived from so highly respectable a quarter as that in which he moved during the greater part of the day. "I can't think of anything in our transactions with the late Mr. Herapath that gives any clue, any idea, anything at all," he said, somewhat querulously. "Mr. Herapath's transactions with us, right up to the day of his death, were just what they had been for years. Of course, I'm willing to tell you anything, show you anything. You're acting for Miss Wynne, aren't you, Mr. Halfpenny?" "I have a power of attorney from Miss Wynne, for that matter," answered Mr. Halfpenny. "Everything of that sort's in my hands."