Max paused. Should he speak? Or should he preserve silence? The mystery now held him bewildered. What had become of the dear old Doctor and the pretty girl with the tiny wisp of hair straying across her white brow? Yes. He would speak the vague impression that had, of late, been uppermost in his mind.
“Well,” he said, “old Statham has financial interests in Servia, has he not?”
“Certainly. Quite a number. He floated their loan a few years ago.”
“And has it not struck you then that he and the Doctor might be acquainted?”
“They were strangers,” he exclaimed quickly, darting a strange look across at Barclay.
Max was somewhat surprised at the vehement and decisive nature of Charlie’s declaration.
“And Maud never met the old fellow?”
“Never—to my knowledge.”
“Statham has a number of friends and acquaintances whom you do not know. The Doctor may have been one of them.”
“Oh, Sam has very few secrets from me. I am his confidential secretary,” was the other’s rather cold response.