"They were found," said Gebb. "I found them, and for the moment believed Dean guilty. But about that ticket found in the Yellow Boudoir?" "That was purposely dropped there by Alder to further incriminate Dean." "How did he get the ticket?" "In giving the confession it fell out of Dean's pocket, and Alder picked it up. So you see, Mr. Gebb, that in every way chance played into Alder's hands." "'The wicked flourish like a green bay tree'; but not for long," said Gebb, grimly. "But tell me. Why was Alder so kind to Ferris?" "Oh, that was his deceit," said Basson, with a sigh. "He fancied that when Dean was accused of this second murder Edith would never marry Ferris, as being the son of such a man. He was kind to him because he wanted to ingratiate himself with Edith: so that she might marry him after parting, as he thought she would, with Ferris." "Infernal scamp!" cried Gebb, swearing, "when he knew that the poor devil was innocent. Have you Miss Gilmar's confession?" "Here it is; Alder gave it to me. It clears Dean entirely, so I suppose he'll receive a free pardon." "I suppose so," said Gebb, putting the confession of Miss Gilmar into his pocket along with that of Alder. "But his life is ruined. I'm only sorry for one thing: that Alder did not live to be hanged." "Well, I cannot agree with you; after all, he was my friend," said Basson, sadly. "He was a blackguard," retorted Gebb, and took his departure. CHAPTER XXVI THE END OF IT ALL One month after the death of John Alder, the two detectives, Parge and Gebb, sat in the room of the former, discussing the now solved mystery of the Grangebury Murder Case. On the table there lay a cheque for two hundred pounds made payable to Absalom Gebb, and signed by Edith Wedderburn. The conversation was mostly about this cheque and how it should be divided between them so as to compensate each with due fairness. The matter was a delicate one, and could not be settled without some sharp words on either side. "After all, Simon," remonstrated Gebb, in vexed tones, "I did most of the work and deserve the reward for my pains." "You don't deserve all of it," retorted Parge, captiously. "I don't claim all of it. I say divide it into two parts of one hundred pounds each. That will pay me, and much more than compensate you." "I don't know so much about that," grunted the fat man. "I've done a deal of thinking over the case, I can tell you. And it was me who found out the murderer. So in justice I ought to have the whole two hundred pounds." Gebb snatched up the cheque, and slipped it into his pocket. "If you talk like that you won't have a single penny!" he cried wrathfully, for he was disgusted with the avarice of his coadjutor. "In the goodness of her heart Miss Wedderburn considered that she should pay the reward out of the estate, and did so--to me; there was no word of you, Mr. Parge, when she signed this cheque."