"Ah! then I understand that you have seen him since his misfortune?" "I have. I was the first person he came to." Saon's face showed great interest. "Are you aware that there is a reward offered for his apprehension by a friend of the deceased?" Eustace nodded grimly. "I know the amount of the reward and the friend also. Do you wish me to earn it?" "No, no; certainly not! You shock me--you inexpressibly shock me, Mr. Jarman. But if you really know the whereabouts of our unfortunate client, tell him to come to us, and--" "I'll do nothing of the sort," interrupted Jarman, "the evidence is too strong against him." "But if he is innocent?" "Innocent men have been hanged before now, Mr. Saon. No, sir, you let me manage the matter in my own way. When I have in my hands sufficient evidence to save Lancaster--the son, of course--from being hanged out of hand, you will step in." "Well"--Saon scratched his chin--"I am not prepared to say but what that may not be the wiser course. And you wish to get some information from us to bring about this state of things?" "I do. You receive a sum of money monthly from 'Frisco." "From San Francisco," corrected the heavy man. "We do." "Does Mr. Lancaster the father send it?" "That I can't tell you. Our agents there are very respectable, as you may guess, and for many years they have sent us this sum monthly. We pay it to Miss Drake--our esteemed client--at the request of that unfortunate young gentleman. But it is understood that the money really goes to him." "Is Mr. Lancaster the father alive?" "We cannot say." "Have you ever asked your respectable San Francisco firm?" "No, certainly not. There is no need to. We receive the money and we pay it over. That is all that concerns us." "Do you know anything about the father?" "Nothing, absolutely nothing. Twenty-three years ago he sent home the son to Miss Drake--our esteemed client--and arranged with our San Francisco agents to pay a monthly sum of twenty pounds for the child's keep. The child is now the unfortunate young man in question, but the money is still paid. I know nothing more." "Would you mind making inquiries of your agents?" Saon shook his stupid head. "I don't think it would do, Mr. Jarman; no, I really don't think it would do. So long as the money arrives, we have no right to pry into private business." "But to save Frank Lancaster?" "Not even for that. We have our own high position to think of." Jarman could have thrown a book at the head of this dignified ass, who would have let a man die to preserve what he called his position. But it was no use getting angry, lest the man should refuse to say more, therefore Jarman swallowed his temper and continued his questions. "Do you think the father is still alive?" Saon did not reply for a moment. Then he looked up. "I said just now that I did not know," he said in a more reasonable tone; "but the fact is I do. Do you think that such information would really be of service to the son?"