concerned, and this man
Barthorpe, as you call him, was pointed out to me as the nephew--nephew
to him as was murdered that night. And then, of course, I knew it was
him as I took up at two o'clock that morning."

"How did you know?" asked Triffitt.

The taxi-cab driver held up a hand and tapped a brass ring on its third
finger.

"Where I wears that ring, gentlemen," he said triumphantly, "he wears a
fine diamond--a reg'lar swell 'un. That morning, when he got into my
cab, he rested his hand a minute on the door, and the light from one o'
the lamps across the street shone full on the stone. Now, then, when
this here Barthorpe was pointed out to me in Orchard Street, a few days
ago, as the nephew of Jacob Herapath, he was talking to another
gentleman, and as they stood there he lighted a cigar, and when he put
his hand up, I see that ring again--no mistaking it, guv'nor! He was
the man. And, from what I've read, it seems to me it was him as put on
his uncle's coat and hat after the old chap was settled, and----"

"If I were you, I'd keep those theories to myself--yet awhile, at any
rate," said Triffitt. "In fact--I want you to. Here!" he went on,
removing the glass and pushing the folded banknotes towards the taxi-cab
driver, "put those in your pocket. And keep your mouth shut about having
seen and told me. I shan't make any use--public use, anyway--of what
you've said, just yet. If the old gentleman, Tertius, comes to you, or
the police come along with or without him, you can tell 'em anything you
like--everything you've told me if you please--it doesn't matter, now.
But you're on no account to tell them that I've seen you and that you've
spilt to me--do you understand?"

The informant understood readily enough, and promised with equal
readiness, even going so far as to say that that would suit him down to
the ground.

"All right," said Triffitt, "keep a still tongue as regards me, and
there'll be another fiver for you. Now, Carver, we'll get."

Outside Triffitt gave his companion's arm a confidential squeeze.

"Things are going well!" he said. "I wasn't a bit surprised at what that
fellow told me--I expected it. What charms me is that Barthorpe
Herapath, who is certainly to be strongly suspected, is in touch with
Burchill--I didn't tell you that I met him on the stairs at Calengrove
Mansions this afternoon. Of course, he was going to see my next-door
neighbour! What about, friend Carver?"

"If you could answ