"A clever man, Mr. Farrington," he said, in a bitter tone of reluctant admiration.
The lawyer looked at him steadily.
"His Majesty's prisons are filled with men who specialize in that kind of cleverness," he said, drily, and left Poltavo without another word.
CHAPTER XVII
T. B. Smith was playing a round of golf at Walton Heath, when the news was telephoned through to him.
He left immediately for town, and picked up Ela at luncheon at the Fritz Hotel, where the detective had his headquarters.
"The whole thing is perfectly clear, now," he said. "The inexplicable disappearance of Mr. Farrington is explained in poster type, 'that he who runs may read.'"