Murthwaite drummed his fingers on the table, regarding us intently.
"Don't you see?" he said suddenly. "Don't you realise the suspicion he has brought on himself? Sir Charles Sperrigoe doesn't know him."
"I'm not so sure of that!" said I, with equal suddenness. "Anyway, I'm quite sure he knows Sperrigoe—or knew him once. Sure of it from a remark he made when I was telling him about Sperrigoe."
"Eh!" exclaimed Murthwaite. "What remark?"
I told him. He rose suddenly from his chair, as if an idea had struck him, and for a minute or two paced the room, evidently thinking. Then he came back to the table, resumed his seat, and turned from one to the other, pointing to the two telegrams which still lay where he had put them down.
"Let us get to business," he said. "Now I suppose you two young people are going to meet Parslewe at Newcastle to-morrow morning in response to those wires?"
"Certainly," answered Madrasia. "And we shall take the copper box with us."
