Browne ran after the man, who still walked on.
"We have come to no conclusion," he panted, for the doctor was plethoric.
"I have," said the Cheap-jack. "You have given me a clue, I tell you, and I'll explain when we are together with Mr. Herries," and so saying, he walked off quickly. Browne, although anxious to question him further, had not the breath to follow him, and moreover, saw that Kind would answer no more questions at the moment. This being the case, he went to seek out Mr. Ritson, wondering greatly why Armour had been kidnapped, and wondering still more what clue Kind had obtained from him. Browne could recall nothing in his conversation likely to afford such a clue.
Mr. Ritson had an office in the High Street of Tarhaven, a most imposing office, next door to a bank. There was nothing of the pettifogging lawyer about Mr. Ritson's office, as it was all mahogany and brass plates and plate-glass windows. Ritson was well-known as the legal adviser of half the county, and was supposed to be extremely wealthy. He was a tall, thin, severe old gentleman, with silvery white hair, and a parchment-hued face, and a dry manner. As a rule, he was not given to speaking much, but usually waited to hear what his clients had to say, that they might commit themselves. But when Dr. Browne, who knew him very well, was admitted into the lofty, airy apartment, which was Mr. Ritson's sanctum, he was surprised by the warmth and volubility with which the usually silent lawyer greeted him.
"I am very glad to see you, doctor," said he, advancing with outstretched hands. "Had you not come, I should have sent for you."
"Humph!" said Browne, the cynic, "I seem to have become a person of importance. Miss Tedder greeted me in the same way."
"You have seen Miss Tedder?"
"Yes. I should have thought that you would have seen her also."
"About what?" asked Ritson quickly, and returning to his desk.
"About her father's death, and the will and----"