"Very well indeed," answered Cox-Raythwaite. "I consider we have done good work. We have found things out. That bank manager is a pompous ass; he's a man of asinine, or possible bovine, mind! Of course, he ought to have revealed these things at both the inquest and the magisterial proceedings!--they'll certainly have to be put in evidence at Barthorpe Herapath's trial." "What things?" demanded the old lawyer, a little testily. "Two things--facts," replied the Professor, composedly. "First, that Jacob Herapath drew five thousand pounds in hundred pound notes at three o'clock on the day of his death. Second, that at some hour of that day he drew a cheque in favour of one Luigi Dimambro, which cheque was cashed as soon as the bank opened next morning." "Frankly," observed Mr. Halfpenny, "frankly, candidly, Cox-Raythwaite, I do not see what these things--facts--prove." "Very likely," said the Professor, imperturbable as ever, "but they're remarkably suggestive to me. They establish for one thing the fact that, in all probability, Jacob Herapath had those notes on him when he was murdered." "Don't see it," retorted Mr. Halfpenny. "He got the fifty one-hundred-pound notes from the bank at three o'clock in the afternoon. He's supposed to have been murdered at twelve--midnight. That's nine hours. Plenty of time in which to pay those notes away--as he most likely did." "If you'll let your mind go back to what came out in evidence at the inquest," said the Professor, "you'll remember that Jacob Herapath went to the House of Commons at half-past three that day and never left it until his coachman fetched him at a quarter-past eleven. It's not very likely that he'd transact business at the House." "Plenty of time between three and half-past three," objected Mr. Halfpenny. "Quite so, but we haven't heard of any transaction being carried out during that time. Make inquiry, and see if he did engage in any such transaction," said the Professor. "If he didn't, then my theory that he had the notes on him is correct. Moreover, Barthorpe has told Selwood that he picked up one note from the desk in his uncle's private room." "One note!" exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny. "One note--quite so," agreed the Professor. "May it not have been--it's all theory, of course--that Jacob had all the notes on the desk when he was murdered, that the murderer grabbed them afterwards, and in his haste, left one? Come, now!" "Theory--theory!" said Mr. Halfpenny. "Still, I'll make inquiries all around, to see if Jacob did pay five thousand away to anybody that afternoon. Well, and your other point?"