it you're in
danger. Collishaw is the man who hinted--as you heard yesterday in my
rooms--that he could say something definite about the Braden affair--if
he liked."

"Well?" said Ransford.

"It's known--to the police--that you were at Collishaw's house early
this morning," said Bryce. "Mitchington knows it."

Ransford laughed.

"Does Mitchington know that I overheard what he said to you, yesterday
afternoon?" he inquired.

"No, he doesn't," answered Bryce. "He couldn't possibly know unless
I told him. I haven't told him--I'm not going to tell him. But--he's
suspicious already."

"Of me, of course," suggested Ransford, with another laugh. He took a
turn across the room and suddenly faced round on Bryce, who had remained
standing near the door. "Do you really mean to tell me that Mitchington
is such a fool as to believe that I would poison a poor working man--and
in that clumsy fashion?" he burst out. "Of course you don't."

"I never said I did," answered Bryce. "I'm only telling you what
Mitchington thinks his grounds for suspecting. He confided in me
because--well, it was I who found Collishaw. Mitchington is in
possession of a box of digestive pills which you evidently gave
Collishaw."

"Bah!" exclaimed Ransford. "The man's a fool! Let him come and talk to
me."

"He won't do that--yet," said Bryce. "But--I'm afraid he'll bring all
this out at the inquest. The fact is--he's suspicious--what with one
thing or another--about the former affair. He thinks you concealed the
truth--whatever it may be--as regards any knowledge of Braden which you
may or mayn't have."

"I'll tell you what it is!" said Ransford suddenly. "It just comes to
this--I'm suspected of having had a hand--the hand, if you like!--in
Braden's death, and now of getting rid of Collishaw because Collishaw
could prove that I had that hand. That's about it!"

"A clear way of putting it, certainly," assented Bryce. "But--there's a
very clear way, too, of dissipating any such ideas."

"What way?" demanded Ransford.

"If you do know anything about the Braden affair--why not reveal it,
and be done with the whole thing," suggested Bryce. "That would finish
matters."

Ransford took a long, silent look at his questioner. And Bryce looked
steadily back--and Mary Bewery anxiously watched both men.

"That's my business," said Ransford at last. "I'm neither to be
coerced, bullied, or cajoled. I'm obliged to you for giving me a hint of
my--danger, I