“And I think we have a mutual friend in—Captain Gordon,” suggested the other, his keen eyes fixed upon the boy.
“Captain Gordon is not a friend of mine,” said Ray quickly. “I’m not particularly keen on police folk as friends.”
“They can be mighty interesting,” said Broad, “but I can quite understand your feeling in the matter. Have you known Brady long?”
“Lew? No, I can’t say that I have. He’s a very nice fellow,” said Ray unenthusiastically. “He’s not exactly the kind of friend I’d have chosen, but it happens that he is a particularly close friend of a friend of mine.”
“Of Miss Bassano,” said Broad. “You used to be at Maitlands?”
“I was there once,” said Ray indifferently, and from his tone one might have imagined that he had merely been a visitor attracted by morbid curiosity to that establishment.
“Queer cuss, old Maitland.”
“I know very little of him,” said Ray.
“A very queer fellow. He’s got a smart secretary, though.”
“You mean Johnson?” Ray smiled. “Poor old philosopher, he’s lost his job!”