if that is the case why should Frisco kill him?" retorted Bess. "However what is done can't be undone. I suppose Frisco will be arrested!"
"They'll have to catch him first," said Dr. Jim a trifle grimly, "and as the man has got away so rapidly, and is now lost in the wilderness of London, I expect they will have some difficulty in doing that."
"You are sure it was Frisco you saw at Southberry?"
"Well I did not see his face. But the clothes of the man at the station were the same in all respects as those described by Napper."
"I've put everything down," said Miss Endicotte, "and now I am going home to Biffstead to put the article into shape. But I do not believe that Frisco is guilty. Who is, I do not pretend to know; but I intend to find out."
"What the police fail to do, you cannot Bess," said Stephen wagging his head, "but we must not wait. Dr. Herrick is coming with me to Beorminster."
"I'm so glad," cried the girl. "It is a shame none of the doctors seeing your mother! How lucky that Dr. Herrick is here. I shall see you again doctor shan't I! I have much to say to you."
"I shall call on you with pleasure," said Jim gravely shaking hands. "At Biffstead I suppose?"
Both Stephen and Bess laughed. "Oh, that is only my joke," said she, "I call our family the Biffs and the house Biffstead. The Grange is where we live. Anyone will point out the place. Come when you can."
As the two men resumed their walk, Herrick could not forbear expressing himself about Bess. "What a clever girl she is," said he, "those eyes of hers twinkle like stars when she grows excited. You know the family do you not Marsh?"
"I have known them all my life. We played together as children. Ida is my greatest friend."
Herrick glanced a little jealously at the young man. "I saw her by chance at Southberry," he said carelessly, "she is very beautiful."
"Very, but not so clever as Bess. Bess is the head and tail and middle of the family. Were it not for her, it would go to pieces. But here we are at the inn. I'll wait for you here Herrick."
"I won't be long," said the doctor, and ran up the stairs.
As might be guessed Robin the selfish was by no means pleased to be left alone. He did not want Jim to go to Beorminster, not even although the call was so imperative. "What shall I do without you?" he asked.
"You will go to sleep," replied Herrick calmly, "now no nonsense Joyce. I have promised to see Mrs. Marsh and I must keep my word."
"How long will you be?"
"It all depends upon the state in which I find Mrs. Marsh. If she is very ill I may stay all night. Good-bye Robin."
"Good-bye," returned the little man a trifle sulkily, "there is far too much of the good Samaritan about you Jim."
"You never think of that in relation to yourself," said Herrick with a laugh. "I hope to be back this evening. Make yourself comfortable."
As he ran down to rejoin Marsh, he could not help contrasting the two natures of Stephen and Robin. It is true that he had not had much experience of Marsh; but from what he had seen of him, he judged that he was of a grateful, kindly disposition. Joyce on the other hand, although he looked upon Jim as his best friend, was selfish to the core. Herrick from long association, and because he had plucked him back on one occasion from the grave, was attached to him. But he oftentimes acknowledged that were not Robin an interesting "case" from a medical point of view, as he undoubtedly was, he could not stand much of him. Still he had been so long the little man's friend, that he could not tear himself away from old associations. Nevertheless Robin's yoke was beginning to gall, and Herrick was glad to get a day away from his society. Friendship is a tender plant, and nothing kills it sooner than selfishness. But Robin in his peevish self-satisfaction had not the sense to see that.
"Do you mind going by the bus?" asked Marsh with a flush. "I am not rich enough to afford a cart of any sort."
"I am quite used to public conveyances," said Herrick gaily, "and as to your being poor, the dark days are over now."
"I suppose so," replied Marsh thankfully, "at least my uncle always told me that I was to be his heir, although we quarrelled so much. I have to take the name of Carr, and fulfil certain duties. I do not know what they are, but I shall do them if only to get the money. I do so want to be rich. Ah here is the bus."
"What about the will?" asked Herrick as they climbed up to the roof of the clumsy conveyance, "pardon me, perhaps I should not ask you."
"I do not mind in the least," said Stephen, "indeed I am glad to find that you take an interest in me. I have had a lonely life. The Biffs are my only friends. By the way who told you about the Biffs?"
Herrick described his meeting with Pentland Corn, and the conversation that had ensued. "He was remarkably confidential," said Herrick.
"That is strange," said Marsh thoughtfully. "He usually keeps his mouth very much closed. However," he added in a lighter tone, "we can talk of him again. At present, we will speak of the will. I have written to my uncle's solicitors informing them of his terrible death. I expect to hear from them to-morrow or the next day--perhaps later."
"Who are your uncle's lawyers--or rather I should say yours?"
"Frith and Frith!"
"Of Steel Lane. Cheapside?" asked Herrick in a tone of surprise.
"Yes! Do you know them?"
"I know of them. They are the solicitors of my friend Joyce!"
"That is strange," said Marsh gaily, "the world is very small after all is it not. But I am forgetting my mother," he added sadly.
"I was told that Mrs. Marsh was your step-mother."
"So she is; but we get on very well together. She is devoted to me. I expect you have heard of her violent temper."
"Well I have," said Herrick hesitating, "it seems to be well known, if you will excuse my saying so."
"Oh, it's Town talk," replied Stephen with a vexed flush, "but she is really a good dear woman, and her own worst enemy. Since my father's death five years ago she has been my best friend. Once she nursed me through a most serious illness. There are worse women in the world than my step-mother Herrick, as you will find. She is a noble-looking woman, and I am glad to be rich if only for her sake. She is fond of luxury, but for my sake has borne poverty. And we have been very, very poor," finished Stephen with a sigh.
Every word the young man uttered revealed his good heart. Jim was pleased to find such an unsophisticated youth for once in his life. The young men he knew were usually old before their time, and took a pride in being so. But Marsh talked with such candour, that Herrick saw he was as simple as the day. "You are a good fellow Marsh," said Jim. "I am glad to have met you."
"I echo your compliment," said the other, "but here we are at Beorminster. I hope my mother is no worse."
The vehicle stopped at the foot of the hill upon which the cathedral was built. Herrick followed his companion up a winding street, as steep as those at Malta, and after a breathless climb found himself in the great square.
