Churchill Penwyn looked at the man thoughtfully for a moment, with that penetrating glance of his which was wont to survey an adverse witness in order to see what might be made of him—the glance of a man familiar with the study of his fellow-men.
'There are vagabonds enough in the world who wear decently made boots,' he said, 'especially your racing vagabonds.'
He made all necessary inquiries about the inquest, and then adjourned to one of the chief hotels, crowded with racing men, though not to suffocation, as at the Summer Meeting.
'You'll watch the case in the interests of the family, of course,' he said to Mr. Pergament. 'I should like you to do what you can for this Mr. Clissold, too. There can be no ground for his arrest.'
'I should suppose not—he and James were such friends.'
'And then the empty purse shows that the murder was done for gain. My cousin may have won money, or have been supposed to have won, on the racecourse, and may have been watched and followed by some prowling ruffian—tout, or tramp, or gipsy.'
'It's odd that Mr. Clissold refused to account for his time last night.'
'Yes, that is curious; but I feel pretty sure the explanation will come when he's pressed.'
And then the gentlemen dined together comfortably.