Allerdyke, like all true Yorkshiremen, had been born into the world with a double portion of caution and a triple one of reserve, and instead of answering the question he took a leisurely look at the questioner. He saw before him a tall, good-looking, irreproachably attired man of from thirty to thirty-five years of age, whose dark eyes were ablaze with excitement, whose equally dark, carefully trimmed moustache did not conceal the agitation of the lips beneath. Mr. Franklin Fullaway, in spite of his broad shoulders and excellent muscular development, was evidently a highly strung, nervous, sensitive gentleman; nothing could be plainer than that he had travelled from town in a state of great mental activity which was just arriving at boiling-point. Everything about his movements and gestures denoted it--the way in which he removed his hat, laid aside his stick and gloves, ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair, and--more than anything--looked at Marshall Allerdyke. But Allerdyke had a habit of becoming cool and quiet when other men grew excited and emotional, and he glanced at his visitor with seeming indifference. "Mr. Fullaway, I suppose?" he said, phlegmatically. "Aye, to be sure! Sit you down, Mr. Fullaway. Will you take anything?--it's a longish ride from London, and I daresay you'd do with a drink, what?" "Nothing, nothing, thank you, Mr. Allerdyke," answered Fullaway, obviously surprised by the other's coolness. "I had lunch on the train." "Very convenient, that," observed Allerdyke. "I can remember when there wasn't a chance of it. Aye--and what might this be that you're asking about, now, Mr. Fullaway? What do you refer to?" Fullaway, after a moment's surprised look at the Yorkshireman's stolid face, elevated his well-marked eyebrows and shook his head. Then he edged his chair nearer to the table at which Allerdyke sat. "You don't know, then, that your cousin had valuables on him?" he asked in an altered tone. "I know exactly what my cousin had on him, and what was in his baggage, when I found him dead in his room," replied Allerdyke drily. "And what that was--was just what I should have expected to find. But--nothing more." Fullaway almost leapt in his chair. "Nothing more!" he exclaimed. "Nothing more than you would have expected to find! Nothing?" Allerdyke bent across the table, giving his visitor a keen look. "What would you have expected to find if you'd found him as I found him?" he asked. "Come--what, now?" He was watching the American narrowly, and he saw that Fullaway's excitement was passing off, was being changed into an attentive eagerness. He himself thrust his hand into his breast pocket and drew out the papers which had been accumulating there since his arrival and discovery. "We'd best be plain, Mr. Fullaway," he said. "I don't know you, but I gather that you knew James, and that you'd done business together."