"Sheard."
Mr. Alden carefully replaced the torn leaf in the envelope, and the envelope in his case. He rolled his smoke from the left corner of his mouth to the right, and, his hands thrust deep in his pockets, walked slowly downstairs. He was not offended. Mr. Aloys. X. Alden was a Stoic who had known for many years that he was not the only clever man in the world.
CHAPTER XIII
THE LISTENER
Sheard sat with both elbows resting upon his writing-table. A suburban quietude reigned about him, for the hour was long past midnight. Before him was spread out the final edition of the Gleaner and prominent upon the front page appeared:—
SIR LEOPOLD JESSON AND MR. HOHSMANN
FALL INTO LINE
With a tact which was inspired by private information from a certain source, the Gleaner had pooh-poohed the story of the mysterious cards received by the guests at Julius Rohscheimer's. The story had leaked out, of course, but Sheard was in no way responsible for the leakage.
Frantically, representatives of the Gleaner's rivals had sought for confirmation from the lips of the victims; but, as had been foreseen by the astute Sheard, no confirmation was forthcoming. There had been an informal council held at the urgent request of Rohscheimer, whereat it had been decided that for the latter to appear, now, in the light of a victim of Séverac Bablon, would be for him to throw away such advantages as might accrue—to throw a potential peerage after his lost £100,000!
Baron Hague had been coerced into silence, and had left for Berlin without seeing a single newspaper man. Mr. Elschild had persisted that his donation was entirely a voluntary one. Jesson had been most urgent for placing the true facts before Scotland Yard, but had finally fallen in with Rohscheimer's wishes.