But Mr. Richard Loide was not an ordinary man. He no longer imagined those crisp Bank of England notes to be in the steamer's strong-room. He did not believe they were even on the ship. That towel removed and a tragic story stared him in the face. What did it mean? That he could not fathom. One solid fact was existent—there had been foul play. Some one had the notes. The man in whose possession they were had a hand in the murder. And that is where Mr. Loide hoped to step in and take a part in the drama. The hand of death had lowered the curtain on the[Pg 54] first act, and the lawyer just hankered after getting behind the scenes. [Pg 54] He formed an idea of his own that, for some reason, Depew was lurking in England; had bargained with the man Loide had killed to personate him on the boat, and so destroy a clue to his existence in London. What then did the other, the cut up body mean? Who could that have been? He regretted now that his horror had prevented his looking at the head. That was another puzzle, and he could not in any way solve it. But he was bent on one thing—the finding of Mr. Depew, and the bleeding of him for all he was worth. Being a city lawyer, and moving in city financial circles, blackmailing had not for him the horrid appearance it presented to most people. One gets used to the atmosphere one breathes daily, and the atmosphere of London city reeks of blackmail. Suddenly a thought came to him which sent all the blood to his heart, and caused him to start to his feet in alarm. Suppose he had been deceived? Suppose he had not handed the money over to the real George Depew?[Pg 55] [Pg 55] He broke into a cold sweat at the mere idea! He remembered how exceedingly lax he had been because Depew had frightened him.
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