"I can find him for you to-day, if you want him," he declared.
"You can? You know him, then?"
"Very well. Mr. Ferris," he courteously remarked, "I perhaps should have explained to you at the time, that I recognized this person and knew him to be an honest man; but the habits of secrecy in our profession are so fostered by the lives we lead, that we sometimes hold our tongue when it would be better for us to speak. The humpback who talked with us on the court-house steps the morning Mrs. Clemmens was murdered, was not what he seemed, sir. He was a detective; a detective in disguise; a man with whom I never presume to meddle—in other words, our famous Mr. Gryce."
"Gryce!—that man!" exclaimed Mr. Ferris, astounded.
"Yes, sir. He was in disguise, probably for some purpose of his own, but I knew his eye. Gryce's eye isn't to be mistaken by any one who has much to do with him."
"And that famous detective was actually on the spot at the time this murder was discovered, and you let him go without warning me of his presence?"
"Sir," returned Mr. Byrd, "neither you nor I nor any one at that time could foresee what a serious and complicated case this was going to be. Besides, he did not linger in this vicinity, but took the cars only a few minutes after he parted from us. I did not think he wanted to be dragged into this affair unless it was necessary. He had important matters of his own to look after. However, if suspicion had continued to follow him, I should have notified him of the fact, and let him speak for himself. But it vanished so quickly in the light of other developments, I just let the matter drop."
The impatient frown with which Mr. Ferris received this acknowledgment showed he was not pleased.
"I think you made a mistake," said he. Then, after a minute's thought, added: "You have seen Gryce since?"
"Yes, sir; several times."