“I shouldn't wonder. Yes; I think he is. A friend of mine takes an interest in him.”
“And so do I. His case was a disgrace to the country, and to the constabulary of the place. It occurred just ten days before I came here, and it seems to me that nothing was done which ought to have been done.”
Mr. Coventry put in a question or two, which elicited from Mr. Ransome all he knew about the matter.
“Where does this Little live?” was the next inquiry.
“I don't know; but I think you could learn at Mr. Cheetham's. The only time I ever saw Little, he was walking with the foreman of those works. He was pointed out to me. A dark young man; carries himself remarkably well—doesn't look like a workman. If they don't know at Cheetham's, I'll find him out for you in twenty-four hours.”
“But this Grotait. Do you know him?”
“Oh, he is a public character. Keeps 'The Cutlers' Arms,' in Black Street.”
“I understand he repudiates all these outrages.”
“He does. But the workmen themselves are behind the scenes; and what do they call him? Why, 'Old Smitem.'”
“Ah! You are one of those who look below the surface,” said the courtier.