"A man can do a lot of things with eleven thousand pounds at his command," remarked Wedgwood. "And he's a sharp, crafty man in my opinion, full of trickery. You haven't even an idea where he was going? I've heard that he told the man to whom he sold his business that he was thinking of taking up a foreign agency."
"Oh, I should say he's off abroad!" exclaimed the manager. "After hearing what you've told me it's the only conclusion I can come to. And if you really think that he murdered his brother———"
"I don't say that," interrupted Wedgwood. "He may have done. What I think is that if he didn't he knows who did! Or he may have a very strong suspicion. But you were saying———?"
"I was going to say that if you want him, why not try the ports if it isn't too late," said the manager. "Of course, he's got a good twenty-four hours start of you."
Wedgwood shook his head.
"If he's gone abroad," he said, "he probably went yesterday. It doesn't take long to slip across to France. I was in hopes when I came here that he'd possibly got a draft on some foreign bank from you, and that I could have traced his movements through that."
