While Pringle was standing on the steps of the inn, Dr. Santley and Alfred Paulton came up. They had walked with one another from Half Moon Lane.
"Well," said the latter, addressing Pringle, "any good news?"
The solicitor shook his head and answered:
"Nothing fresh."
"I thought," said Paulton, in a tone of disappointment, "that Jerry O'Brien would be with you. Is he not come? He said he would be here to-day."
"I have not seen him," said Pringle. "I came out with Mrs. Davenport. She is upstairs in a private room. Do you know anything of Blake? Have you met him on the way?"
"Perhaps," said Dr. Santley grimly, "he is cultivating the acquaintance of the police."
The speakers had moved out of earshot of the crowd.
"No," said Pringle, "I have ascertained that he will not be touched until after this day's work, anyway."
As the solicitor ceased speaking, two other men approached. They, too, were walking together; but as they drew near the "Wolfdog," one of them moved off to the right, and went towards the inn door; the other held on towards the three men. The latter was Jerry O'Brien. When he came up with the little group, and had shaken hands with them, Pringle asked: