"Because, as I said before, he was murdered for his papers," affirmed
Viner. "I'm sure of that as you are of the rest."
"I dare say you're right," agreed Mr. Pawle. "But, as I've said before, that presupposes that Ashton told somebody the secret. Now—who? Was it the man he was with in Paris? And if so, who is that man? But it's useless speculating. I've made up my mind to a certain course, Viner. Tomorrow, after the funeral, I'm going to call on the present Lord Ellingham—his town house is in Hertford Street, and I know he's in town—and ask him if he has heard anything of a mysterious nature relating to his long-missing uncle. We may hear something—you come with me."
Next day, toward the middle of the afternoon, Mr. Pawle and Viner got out of a taxicab in Park Lane and walked down Hertford Street, the old lawyer explaining the course he was about to take.
"This is a young man—not long come of age," he said. "He'll be quite well acquainted, however, with the family history, and if anything's happened lately, I dare say I can get him to talk. He—What is it?"
Viner had suddenly gripped his companion's arm and pulled him to a halt. He was looking ahead—at the house at which they were about to call. And there, just being shown out by a footman, was the man whom he had seen at the old-fashioned tavern in Notting Hill, and with him a tall, good-looking man whom he had never seen before.
CHAPTER XV
THE PRESENT HOLDER
Mr. Pawle turned sharply on his companion as Viner pulled him up. He saw the direction of Viner's suddenly arrested gaze and looked from him to the two men who had now walked down the steps of the house and were advancing towards them.
"What is it?" he asked. "Those fellows are coming away from Lord
Ellingham's house. You seem to know them?"
"One of them," murmured Viner. "The clean-shaven man. Look at him!"