"Clever!" cried Rankin. "Why, he's a very fiend of cleverness when it comes to a case of this kind. We're not in the same class with him. He's a fancy fellow—just the Record kind. You're sure you didn't tell him anything else, Mr. Lester?" he added anxiously. "Godfrey's capable of getting a story out of a fence-post."
"No, I'm quite sure I didn't tell him anything else. I only listened to his theory with great interest."
"And assented to it?"
"I said I thought it plausible."
An electric shock seemed to run around the room.
"That's it!" cried Rankin. "That's what he wanted. Now, it isn't his theory any more. It's yours. Oh, I can see his headlines! Won't you tell us what it was?"
I looked up at him.
"Now, frankly, Mr. Rankin," I asked, "if you were in my place, would you tell?"
He hesitated for a moment, and then held out his hand.
"No," he said, as I took it. "I shouldn't. Shake hands, sir; you're all right. Come on, boys, we might as well be going."