fficult matter. But there
are two things--perhaps more, but certainly two--on which I want light.
The first is--nobody has succeeded in unearthing the man who went to the
House of Commons to see Jacob on the night of the murder. In spite of
everything, advertisements and all the rest of it, he's never come
forward. If you remember, Halfpenny had a theory that the letter and
the object which Mountain saw Jacob hand to that man were a note to the
Safe Deposit people and the key of the safe. Now we know that's not so,
because no one ever brought any letter to the Safe Deposit people and
nobody's ever opened the safe. Halfpenny, too, believed, during the
period of the police officials' masterly silence, that that man had put
himself in communication with them. Now we know that the police have
never heard anything whatever of him, have never traced him. I'm
convinced that if we could unearth that man we should learn something.
But how to do it, I don't know."

"And the other point?" asked Selwood, after a pause during which
everybody seemed to be ruminating deeply. "You mentioned two."

"The other point," replied the Professor, "is one on which I am going to
make a practical suggestion. It's this--I believe that Barthorpe told
the truth in that statement of his which I've just read to you, but I
should like to know if he told all the truth--all! He may have omitted
some slight thing, some infinitesimal circumstance----"

"Do you mean about himself or--what?" asked Selwood.

"I mean some very--or seemingly very--slight thing, during his two
visits to the estate office that night, which, however slight it may
seem, would form a clue to the real murderer," answered the Professor.
"He may have seen something, noticed something, and forgotten it, or not
attached great importance to it. And, in short," he continued, with
added emphasis, "in short, my friends, Barthorpe must be visited,
interviewed, questioned--not merely by his legal advisers, but by some
friend, and the very person to do it"--here he turned and laid his great
hand on Peggie's shoulder--"is--you, my dear!"

"I!" exclaimed Peggie.

"You, certainly! Nobody better. He will tell you what he would tell no
one else," said the Professor. "You're the person. Am I not right,
Tertius?"

"I think you are right," assented Mr. Tertius. "Yes, I think so."

"But--he's in prison!" said Peggie. "Will they let me?"

"Oh, that's all right," answered the Professor. "Halfpen