"Then perhaps your friendship extends to the son as well."
"Perhaps it does," and a note of perceptible caution crept into Tobin's voice.
"I am glad to hear it," said the investigator. "He seems badly in need of friends of the right sort just now; and I am confident, Mr. Tobin, that you are of that sort."
"A man who has disappeared as completely as this one has done," stated Tobin, "is out of the reach of even the best of friends."
"Have you not heard from him since the murder?"
"No," replied the other with a readiness that carried conviction.
"Then you will, and before long." Ashton-Kirk arose and stood looking into the old man's face. "Perhaps it will be to-night; but it will be by to-morrow night at latest. And when you do you can best show your friendship for him by telling him not to be a fool."
"You mean," said Tobin, shrewdly, "that I'm to advise him to give over hiding?"
"Exactly."
"I'll do that willingly enough, if I hear of him. An innocent man has no call to hide himself like a rat. But," inquiringly, "after I tell him that, what will I do?"