little parson. 'Who's that, then?' he inquired, much pleased.
We gazed at it, open-eyed. One word rose to our lips simultaneously: 'Brabazon!'
'And how's this for high?' he asked again, producing another—the photograph of a gay young dog in a Tyrolese costume.
We murmured, 'Von Lebenstein!'
'And this?' he continued, showing us the portrait of a lady with a most fetching squint.
We answered with one voice, 'Little Mrs. Granton!'
Medhurst was naturally proud of this excellent exploit. He replaced them in his pocket-book with an air of just triumph.
'How did you get them?' Charles asked.
Medhurst's look was mysterious. 'Sir Charles,' he answered, drawing himself up, 'I must ask you to trust me awhile in this matter. Remember, there are people whom you decline to suspect. I have learned that it is always those very people who are most dangerous to capitalists. If I were to give you the names now, you would refuse to believe me. Therefore, I hold them over discreetly for the moment. One thing, however, I say. I know to a certainty where Colonel Clay is at this present speaking. But I will lay my plans deep, and I hope before long to secure him. You shall be present when I do so; and I shall make him confess his personality openly. More than that you cannot reasonably ask. I shall
