both Braden and
Collishaw--murdered both of them, in fact?" he suggested. "Do I
understand that's what it really comes to--in plain words?"

"Not quite," replied Bryce. "I don't say that Ransford meant to kill
Braden--my notion is that they met, had an altercation, probably
a struggle, and that Braden lost his life in it. But as regards
Collishaw--"

"Don't forget!" interrupted Mitchington. "Varner swore that he saw
Braden flung through that doorway! Flung out! He saw a hand."

"For everything that Varner could prove to the contrary," answered
Bryce, "the hand might have been stretched out to pull Braden back.
No--I think there may have been accident in that affair. But, as regards
Collishaw--murder, without doubt--deliberate!"

He lighted another cigarette, with the air of a man who had spoken his
mind, and Mitchington, realizing that he had said all he had to say, got
up from his seat.

"Well--it's all very interesting and very clever, doctor," he said,
glancing at Jettison. "And we shall keep it all in mind. Of course,
you've talked all this over with Harker? I should like to know what he
has to say. Now that you've told us who he is, I suppose we can talk to
him?"

"You'll have to wait a few days, then," said Bryce. "He's gone to
town--by the last train tonight--on this business. I've sent him. I had
some information today about Ransford's whereabouts during the time of
disappearance, and I've commissioned Harker to examine into it. When I
hear what he's found out, I'll let you know."

"You're taking some trouble," remarked Mitchington.

"I've told you the reason," answered Bryce.

Mitchington hesitated a little; then, with a motion of his head towards
the door, beckoned Jettison to follow him.

"All right," he said. "There's plenty for us to see into, I'm thinking!"

Bryce laughed and pointed to a shelf of books near the fireplace.

"Do you know what Napoleon Bonaparte once gave as sound advice to
police?" he asked. "No! Then I'll tell you. 'The art of the police,'
he said, 'is not to see that which it is useless for it to see.' Good
counsel, Mitchington!"

The two men went away through the midnight streets, and kept silence
until they were near the door of Jettison's hotel. Then Mitchington
spoke.

"Well!" he said. "We've had a couple of tales, anyhow! What do you think
of things, now?"

Jettison threw back his head with a dry laugh.

"Never been better puzzled in all my time!" he said. "Never