e. And, anyway, we didn't get the real culprit through the diamonds,
either!"

"That's what we want to know," said Selwood. "Have you got the real
culprit? Are you certain? And how on earth did you get him--a man that
none of us ever suspected!"

"Just so!" answered Davidge with a grim laugh. "As nice and quiet-mannered
a man as ever I entered as a candidate for the gallows! It's very often
the case, gentlemen. Oh, yes--it's true enough! He's confessed--crumpled
up like a bit of tissue paper when we took him--confessed everything to me
just before I came along here. Of course we didn't get him through anything
we've heard tonight; quite different line altogether, and a simple one."

"We should like to know about it," said Cox-Raythwaite. "Can't you give
us a mere outline?"

"I was going to," answered Davidge. "No secret about it. I may as well
tell you that after hearing what Barthorpe Herapath insisted on saying
before the magistrate, I began to feel that he was very likely telling
the truth, and that somebody'd murdered and robbed his uncle just before
he got to the offices. But, of course, there was nothing to connect the
murder and robbery with any person that I knew of. Well, now then, this
is how we got on the track. Only two or three days ago a little, quiet
man, who turned out to be a bit of a property-owner down at Fulham, came
to me and said that ever since Mr. Jacob Herapath's murder he'd been
what he called studying over it, and he thought he ought to tell me
something. He said he was a very slow thinker, and it had taken him a
long time to think all this out. Then he told me his tale. He said that
for some time Jacob Herapath had been waiting to buy a certain bit of
land which he had to sell. On November 12th last he called to see Jacob
at these offices, and they agreed on the matter, price to be L5,000.
Jacob told him to come in at ten o'clock next morning, and in accordance
with his usual way of doing business, he'd hand him the money in
cash--notes, of course. Well, the chap called next morning, only to hear
of what had happened, and so his business had fallen through. And it
wasn't until some time later--he's a bit of a slow-witted fellow,
dullish of brain, you understand," continued Davidge indulgently, "that
he remembered a certain conversation, or rather a remark which Jacob
Herapath made during that deal. This man, James Frankton, the manager,
was present when the deal was being effected, and whe