Fuller jumped up and, laying down his pipe, began to pace the narrow confines of the office. “Yes, I do, and for these reasons. In the first place, Miss Grison would not have mentioned cryptograms to him without she guessed that he knew something; in the second, when I boasted purposely about my knowledge of secret writings, he would not have told me that he had a cryptogram which would baffle my skill, as he certainly did more or less; and in the third, Dicky, he would not have been afraid of Miss Grison.” “What do you mean by that exactly?” “Well, Sorley told me that he hated Miss Grison and that she annoyed him by saying that he had dismissed her brother unjustly and had practically ruined his life. She walked into the house and all over the house, and yet Sorley did not dare to object either to her taking such a liberty or to her calling him names when Marie and I were present. Also she asked about his motor cycle which I told you he had bought, and inquired if he had been to London. He denied that he had, and she sarcastically advised him not to go lest he should be knocked over in the streets.” “Then I infer,” said Dick, slowly removing his pipe, “that you believe Miss Grison suspects Sorley of knowing both the secret of the peacock and that it was in the possession of her brother. Also that he came up to town by means of his motor cycle and murdered the man for its possession?” “Yes, I do infer as much,” said Fuller bluntly and returning to his chair. “If Sorley has not the peacock, and does not know the story of Ferrier, why should he speak to me about cryptograms?” “But he only made an idle remark which was natural, seeing that Miss Grison spoke of cryptograms, although I admit that it is strange she should talk about them at all unless——” “Exactly,” interrupted the solicitor, tilting back his chair so as to get at the drawer of his writing-table; “unless she believes that he murdered her brother and now possesses the peacock with an intention of learning the cryptogram by employing me to solve it.” “Sorley would scarcely do that when he knows that if he is guilty, such a revelation of his possession of the peacock would condemn him.” “You forget,” said Alan, who had extracted a letter from the drawer, “that the fact of the murder being committed for the sake of the peacock has not yet been made public. As I said, I told Marie, but I did not tell Sorley because I mistrust him, and warned her not to do so either. So if Miss Grison’s assumption is true Sorley will have no hesitation in enlisting my services, or in showing me the peacock, always presuming that he is indeed the murderer and has it in his possession.” Latimer nodded three times solemnly. “It _is_ strange, and you argue very well, my son. What’s that letter you are holding?”