A bad lot--a very bad lot. He never liked you. I don't know why. But I didn't think it would come to this."
"Jarman"--Frank started from his seat--"you don't suppose--"
"Sit down, you ass." Jarman pushed Lancaster back into his chair. "I wouldn't take things so quietly if you had killed him. Barring that, I'm glad the man's out of the world. He was no use in it."
"My own words--my own words!"
"When and where?"
"At the Piccadilly Theatre last night. I shouted them in the bar after I knocked him down."
"H'm! Shouldn't talk like that, Frank, it's foolish."
"I know it is. I'm in a fix, that's why I come to you."
"Well," said Eustace, refilling his briar, "the best thing you can do is to tell me everything from the start.
"Where am I to start from. You know about Fairy Fan?"
"Yes; and about Starth's love for her. He looked upon you as a rival, and the knowledge didn't increase his liking for you. Well?"
Frank straightened himself, and forthwith delivered a succinct account of all that had taken place, from the encounter on the previous night to his leaving the house in Sand Lane, South Kensington.
"I took the Underground to Liverpool Street and caught the down train by the skin of my teeth. I didn't even return to my diggings, as I was afraid of being arrested. I'm a marked man now, Eustace. The police will hunt me down. And I am innocent."
"Why didn't you give the alarm when you found Starth dead?"
"Man alive, that would have delivered me into the power of the law."
"I know that. Just asked the question to see what you'd say. H'm! It's a nasty case for you. The circumstantial evidence--"
"I know--I know. Who knows better than I?" Frank rose to pace the room anxiously. "I spoke foolishly about Starth being better out of the world, at the theatre. I took my pistol with me--I was alone in the house with him!--that servant saw me leave, and I daresay noticed my agitation. Jarman, it's awful. I don't see how I'm going to get out of the danger. They'll hang me."
"Steady, old man. They won't hang you. I won't let them."
"Then you'll help me to get out of the country?"
"No. If you cut, you'll surely be caught. By to-morrow every seaport in the kingdom will be watched. You must stay here."
"But I'll be traced."
"I don't think so. Plenty of men go up and down on this line in frock-coats and tall hats. I don't suppose anyone took particular notice of you."
"The train was crowded."
"All the better. There's safety in a crowd. No, Frank, don't leave England. Stop here, and I'll fix you up some sort of disguise. The very daring of the thing may be your salvation. The police will never think that you will remain so near town. I'll make things safe with Miss Cork, and she's the only person who has seen you. When we get time to turn round we can sift matters out."
"What a good chap you are, Jarman!"
"Nothing of the sort. If you were guilty I shouldn't chance the risk of being an accessory after the fact. As it is, I'll see you through the business. It's a nasty affair, there's no denying that. I expect the sister will come over to-morrow to ask for my assistance."
"Oh!" Frank jumped up nervously. "Do you think she'll recognise me?"
"Of course not. She only saw you once, and that at a distance, Besides, I don't suppose she inquired your name. Finally, as I intend to disguise you, she won't guess that anything is wrong. You work the typer?"
"Yes."
"Good! Then you'll stop here as my secretary. I'll dictate, and you'll work the machine. With your moustache cut off, dyed black hair, a stained face, and a pair of goggles for weak eyes, no one will recognise you."
"But no one hereabouts knows me, except Miss Starth, and she only saw me in the glare of the electrics for a few minutes."
"Frank, you're an ass! The _Police Gazette_ will have a full description of you. Everyone will be on the look-out. Thank Heaven, you're of the commonplace type. Pink and white, fair hair, blue eyes, well-groomed, military figure, and all the rest of it."
"How will my blue eyes match black hair?"
"We'll say you're Irish, and you can fix up a brogue. Trust me. I've been in several holes myself, and know how to get out of the deepest."
"But, Jarman, who do you think killed the man?"
"I can't say that until I know more. The reason is to be found in Walter Starth's past. He has sown the wind pretty freely, and I can hardly wonder at his reaping this whirlwind."
"Do you think he intended to trap me?" asked Lancaster.
"Yes. He's not the man to apologise. And the house being empty on that evening shows that Starth was up to some trickery. Maybe he intended to kill you. However, he never intended to die himself."
"How do you know? He may have committed suicide."
"Bosh! Starth was the last man in the world to have such an idea. He wasn't cowardly enough. I will say that. Besides, if he wished to commit suicide he would scarcely invite you to see him do it."
"I don't know. He might have left a letter saying I shot him, and then got out of the world to hang me."
Jarman shrugged his huge shoulders. "That's an extreme measure of revenge. If he wanted to get you into trouble, he would certainly like to be present to see how you took your gruel. Another thing, from what you say, your pistol was used."
"I think so. At all events, it was taken from my pocket."
"H'm! He searched you. Anything else missing?"
"The note in which he asked me to call."
"That proves Starth set a trap. I think--no I don't; I can't deliver an opinion until I know more. Go to bed and sleep."
"I can't sleep," said Frank, passionately. "I'm ruined."
But for all that he dropped into a deep slumber almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.
"Worn out, poor wretch!" said Eustace.
CHAPTER IV
TWO HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD
"What do you think of my new secretary, Miss Cork?" asked Jarman next morning, when his housekeeper was laying the table. He put the question purposely to arrange matters for the disguise.
"I didn't see quite rightly, Mr. Jarman, my eyes being weak. Young?"
"And dark and Irish.
