“It looks like it,” murmured Dick, looking hard at Fuller’s artistic effort; “so my sixth sense was right when it told me that Morad-Bakche was mixed up in the matter.” Alan nodded crossly. “But I wish that your sixth sense would tell you who murdered Grison.” “We shan’t learn that until we question the sister. If she admits that she took the peacock to The Monastery at Belstone, Sorley will be exonerated. If she declares that she did not, Sorley will have to account for its being in his possession.” “But confound it man, can’t you see that if—as Sorley says—she wishes to get him into trouble, she will certainly decline to tell the truth.” “What is the truth anyhow?” asked Dick, after the fashion of Pontius Pilate. “Lord knows!” replied Fuller disconsolately. “Of course Jotty never said that Grison had the peacock on the precise night of his murder. The boy only saw it on previous occasions. It is quite possible that the dead man may have given it to his sister to send to Sorley and make trouble. They both hated the man, and evidently with good reason.” “Yes; but if that were the case, it would argue that Grison knew he would be murdered, which is ridiculous. Besides Sorley told a lie about his motor bicycle, which shows that he does not wish it known he was able to slip up to town and back again without making use of the publicity of the railway. I am inclined to suspect Sorley as the guilty person.” “Do you think Bakche may have killed Grison?” “No; for if he had he would scarcely have given the peacock to the sister for Sorley’s benefit.” Alan nodded. “I thought that myself,” he said slowly. “Well what is to be done now, Dicky?” “Inspector Moon ought to know,” said Latimer significantly. Fuller jumped up quickly, “Not just now, Dick; don’t say anything to him. He would certainly arrest Sorley straight away, and I wish to spare Marie the disgrace.” “But the truth is bound to come out sooner or later, Alan,” remarked Dick, perplexed how to act. “The truth! Quite so. Still, when known, the truth may not implicate Mr. Sorley. For all we know he may be perfectly innocent.” “He may be,” retorted Latimer dryly, and with a shrug, “but to my mind he seems to be deeply involved in the matter. The evidence is strong——” “The circumstantial evidence,” corrected Alan quickly. “I don’t see that your interpolated word matters a cent, sonny. The peacock being in the man’s possession points to his guilt.” “Unless Miss Grison left it secretly at The Monastery.” “There is that chance certainly,” admitted Dick with another shrug. “However as Sorley is not aware that he is suspected he won’t try to bolt, so under the circumstances I shall hold my tongue until things straighten out a trifle. But if he does try to leave the country, I must speak, Alan, and so must you, else we may be accused of compounding a felony. As a lawyer you ought to know that much.”