Cicero could say no more. He was choked with emotion, and gave vent to his feelings by shaking his fist at the sky. "Ah," said Blair, who had been taking in the situation, "Lestrange! You have found a cleverer villain than yourself." "He has gone away!" roared Cicero, with the voice of an angry bull. "Yes, you may look. He went this morning, bag and baggage. I don't know where he is, save that he roams the wilderness of London. And my money--he paid his bill to mine hostess of the hostel with my money!" "The deuce he did!" said Alan. "And how did you come to lend him money?" "I do not mind explaining," said Mr. Gramp, with a defiant glance at the gentleman who represented the police. "I went into partnership with Lestrange. He had no money; I lent him a goodly part of your fifty pounds, Mr. Thorold, on an undertaking that I should get half of what he received from Miss Marlow." "A very creditable bargain," remarked Alan grimly; "but you invested your cash in a bad cause, Mr. Gramp. I saw Lestrange last night, and assured him that he would not get one penny of the blackmail he proposed to extort. I dare say, after my visit, he found the game was up, and thought it advisable to clear out. I should recommend you to do the same." "So should I," put in Blair significantly, "or I'll have you arrested as a vagabond without proper means of support." "I am a professor of eloquence and elocution!" cried Cicero, his fat cheeks turning pale at this stern hint. "You dare not arrest me; and you, Mr. Thorold, will be sorry if you do not employ me." "Employ you? In which way?" "To hunt Lestrange down." Alan shrugged his shoulders. "I do not wish to see the man again." "But I know something about him. Promise to pay me some money, and I'll show you a letter written to Captain Lestrange, which came to the inn after he left. I took it and opened it to find out his plans." "Well, you are a scoundrel!" said Alan, looking Mr. Gramp's portly figure up and down. "By opening another person's letter you have placed yourself within reach of the law." "I don't care!" cried Cicero recklessly. "I am desperate. Will you pay me for a sight of that letter?" "Yes," said the inspector before Alan could reply, "if it is worth paying for. On the other hand, you could be arrested for opening it. Come, the letter!" Cicero produced the document in question, and kept firm hold of it while he made his bargain. "How much, Mr. Thorold?" "If it proves to be of use," replied the young Squire leisurely, "I'll pay you well. Leave the amount to me." The tramp still hesitated, but Inspector Blair, becoming impatient, snatched it out of his hand and proceeded to read it aloud. It was a short note to the effect that if the writer did not receive a certain sum of money "at once" (underlined), he would come down to Heathton and "tell all" (also underlined) to Miss Marlow. These few lines were signed, "O. Barkham."