man can’t afford to lose so splendid a chance for friendship’s sake. Besides,” his eyes darkening and his mouth twitching convulsively, “it’s time for Dick and I to find out who is the better man!”

[48]Returning to the inner office, the Chief of the force found his strange patron walking fiercely up and down the room, with a newspaper grasped firmly in his hand, and on his countenance traces of agitation.

[48]

“Look!” he cried, approaching and forcing the paper upon the astonished Chief; “see what a moment of waiting has brought me!”

And he pointed to a paragraph beginning:

WANTED. INFORMATION OF ANY SORT CONCERNING one Arthur Pearson, etc. etc.

“An advertisement, I see;” said the Chief. “But I fail to understand why it should thus excite you.”

“A moment ago it was my intention to keep the identity of the murdered man a secret. This,” indicating the paper by a quick gesture, “changes the face of affairs. After twenty years, some one inquires after Arthur Pearson—”

“Then Arthur Pearson is—”

“The man who was murdered near the Marais des Cygnes!”

“And the child?”

“I never knew her name until now. No doubt it is the little girl that was in Pearson’s care.”

“What became of the child?”

“I never knew.”

“And how does this discovery affect your movements?”

“I will tell you; but, first, you saw Vernet?”

“Yes; and he accepts.”

“Good! That notice was inserted either by some friend of Pearson’s, or by the child’s father, John Ainsworth.”

“What do you know of him?”

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