g up of a hundred pound note from his desk is--why, it's no more
than if I picked up a few of those coppers that are lying there on my
chimney-piece!"

"Just so, just so!" observed Mr. Tertius mildly. "Jacob was a very
wealthy man--the money evidence was everywhere."

But Professor Cox-Raythwaite only laughed and smote the table with his
big fist.

"My dear Halfpenny!" he exclaimed. "Why, you've just given us the very
best proof of what I've been saying! You're not looking deeply enough
into things. The very fact to which you bear testimony proves to me that
a certain theory which is assuming shape in my mind may possibly have a
great deal in it. That theory, briefly, is this--on the day of his death,
Jacob Herapath may have had upon his person a large amount of money in
bank-notes. He may have had them paid to him. He may have drawn them from
his bank, to pay to somebody else. Some evil person may have been aware of
his possession of those notes and have tracked him to the estate offices,
or gained entrance, or--mark this!--have been lurking--lurking!--there, in
order to rob him. Don't forget two points, my friend--one, that Barthorpe
(if he's speaking the truth, and I, personally, believe he is) tells us
that the doors of the offices and the private room were open when he
called at twelve o'clock; and, too, that, according to Mountain, the
coachman, Jacob Herapath had been in those offices since twenty-five
minutes to twelve--plenty of time for murder and robbery to take place.
I repeat--Jacob may have had a considerable sum of money on him that
night, some one may have known it, and the motive of his murder may have
been--probably was--sheer robbery. And we ought to go on that, if we want
to save the family honour."

Mr. Tertius nodded and murmured assent, and Mr. Halfpenny stirred
uneasily in his chair.

"Family honour!" he said. "Yes, yes, that's right, of course. It would
be a dreadful thing to see a nephew hanged for the murder of his
uncle--quite right!"

"A much more dreadful thing to stand by and see an innocent man hanged,
without moving heaven and earth to clear him," commented the Professor.
"Come now, I helped to establish the fact that Barthorpe visited Portman
Square that night--Tertius there helped too, by his quickness in seeing
that the half-eaten sandwich had been bitten into by a man who had lost
two front teeth, which, of course, was Barthorpe's case--so the least we
can do is to bestir ours