"Certainly I can. In point of fact, it's not guesswork at all. He was good enough to warn me of his intention."
"Well?"
"He's been telling you that I did what he did himself."
"Which of you am I to believe?" cried Harry in a frenzy. "You are villains both! I believe you did it between you!"
"Steady, Ringrose, steady. I have given you provocation in the past, but I am not provoking you now. That your father's fate was different from what I led you to believe it would be idle to deny any longer, especially as I am here to clear up the mystery once and for all. Take me upstairs and you shall know the truth."
"What! Trust myself to the two of you?"
Lowndes pointed to the shadowy figure across the road.
"And to the man who is with me."
"Who is he?"
"The first detective in London," whispered Lowndes, in his pat, decisive way. "Now, will you take me up to bowl out Scrafton, or shall I call to him to come down, and make a scene here in the street? My dear Ringrose, I may have my faults, but do you seriously mean to take his word before mine?"