"No, sir. He's a stranger to me," Rayner replied.
"Well," I said, "he's Edward Craig."
"Edward Craig!" echoed Rayner, staring at me as we stood at the street corner together. "Why, that's the man who was murdered at Cromer!"
"The same."
"But he died. An inquest was held."
"I tell you, Rayner, that Edward Craig—the man who is supposed to be nephew of old Gregory Vernon—is still alive. I could identify him among ten thousand."
Rayner was silent. Then at last he said—
"Well, sir, that's utterly astounding. Who, then, was the man who was killed?"
"That's just what we have to discover," I replied. "We must find out, too, why he wore old Vernon's clothes on that fatal night."
Thoughts of the footprint, and the tiny shoe which had so exactly fitted it, arose within me, but I kept my own counsel and said nothing.