"If that is the case, why should Judas show them to Marson?" Fanks fidgeted uneasily in his chair, looked at the floor, the ceiling, the Doctor, everywhere but at Roger. "I really can't tell," he said at length, very lamely. "Yes, you can," shouted Roger, rising quickly; "you suspect--" "I have said no name," replied Fanks, very pale, rising in his turn. "No, but I will!" "Roger!" "I will tell you, and I declare it's a lie--a lie!" "Good heavens!" cried Japix, rising, "what does this mean?" He looked at both men for an answer, and obtained it from Roger: "It means that my old schoolfellow suspects the woman I love of a crime." "Judith Varlins!" "Yes; Judith Varlins!" Japix looked at Fanks to see if he would repeat the accusation, but the detective said nothing. "My dear Axton, you're dreaming," he said, soothingly. "I'd as soon think of suspecting myself." Roger seized the large hand of the Doctor and shook it heartily. "Thank Heaven there is some one believes her innocent," he said, with a half sob. "Tut, tut!" answered the Doctor, quietly, "sit down, my dear boy, sit down. There must be some explanation of this." "If Roger would not be so impetuous," said Fanks, who had resumed his seat, "I would like to tell him something." Roger looked at his friend with a gleam of hope in his eye, and sat down in sullen silence. "You yourself say I suspect Miss Varlins," explained Fanks, with faint hesitation, "simply because I said Judas had taken certain documents to Marson. How do you know that I may not suspect some one else?" "Whom?" "Miss Varlins," observed Fanks, leisurely, "may, for all we know, be acting a very noble part, and may be trying to screen another person--for instance, Mr. Francis Marson." "What?" shouted Japix and Roger in one breath. "I'm not certain--by no means certain; but I have my suspicions." "Of Marson?" said Japix, scornfully; "pooh! nonsense! There isn't a more respected man in Ironfields." "It's generally your respected persons who fancy they can sin with impunity, and not be found out on account of that very respectability. May I ask you a few questions, Japix?" "By all means." "Why did Marson want his pretty daughter to marry that ugly wreck of a Spolger?" Japix hesitated a moment before answering. "I know nothing for a fact," he said at length, with great reluctance, "but common rumour--" "Common rumour by all means. There's no smoke without fire." "A detestable proverb," said Japix, frowning. "Well, rumour says that Marson will smash if money is not put into his business, and that Florry Marson was to be the price of Spolger finding for Marson & Son the requisite money." "I think that's the most powerful reason for the crime we've had yet." Neither of his listeners answered this remark, as they seemed instinctively to feel that the fatal net was closing round Marson through the relentless logic of the detective.