Next day he continued to brood over his puzzle, and no fresh light came;
but having a matter on which his firm and Scrivens' were in touch, he
decided to go over in person, and see if he could surprise something out
of them. Feeling, from experience, that any really delicate matter would
only be entrusted to the most responsible member of the firm, he had
asked to see Scriven himself, and just as he had taken his hat to go, he
said casually:

"By the way, you do some business for old Mr. Heythorp, don't you?"

Scriven, raising his eyebrows a little, murmured: "Er--no," in exactly
the tone Mr. Ventnor himself used when he wished to imply that though he
didn't as a fact do business, he probably soon would. He knew therefore
that the answer was a true one. And non-plussed, he hazarded:

"Oh! I thought you did, in regard to a Mrs. Larne."

This time he had certainly drawn blood of sorts, for down came Scriven's
eyebrows, and he said:

"Mrs. Larne--we know a Mrs. Larne, but not in that connection. Why?"

"Oh! Young Pillin told me--"

"Young Pillin? Why, it's his---!" A little pause, and then: "Old Mr.
Heythorp's solicitors are Crow & Donkin, I believe."

Mr. Ventnor held out his hand. "Yes, yes," he said; "goodbye. Glad to
have got that matter settled up," and out he went, and down the street,
important, smiling. By George! He had got it! "It's his
father"--Scriven had been going to say. What a plant! Exactly! Oh!
neat! Old Pillin had made the settlement direct; and the solicitors were
in the dark; that disposed of his difficulty about them. No money had
passed between old Pillin and old Heythorp not a penny. Oh! neat! But
not neat enough for Charles Ventnor, who had that nose for rats. Then
his smile died, and with a little chill he perceived that it was all
based on supposition--not quite good enough to go on! What then?
Somehow he must see this Mrs. Larne, or better--old Pillin himself. The
point to ascertain was whether she had any connection of her own with
Pillin. Clearly young Pillin didn't know of it; for, according to him,
old Heythorp had made the settlement. By Jove! That old rascal was
deep--all the more satisfaction in proving that he was not as deep as C.
V. To unmask the old cheat was already beginning to seem in the nature
of a public service. But on what pretext could he visit Pillin? A
subscription to the Windeatt almshouses! That would make him talk in
self-defence a