"Well, this," replied Mr. Armitstead: "In one of the London newspapers there was a plan, a rough sketchmap of the passage in which the murder took place. I gathered from it that on each side of that passage there are yards or gardens, at the backs of houses—the houses on one side belong to some terrace; on the other to the square—Markendale Square—in which Ashton lived. Now, may it not be that the murder itself was actually committed in one of those houses, and that the body was carried out through a yard or garden to where it was found?"
"Ashton was a big and heavy man," observed Viner. "No one man could have carried him."
"Just so!" agreed Mr. Armitstead. "But don't you think there's a probability that more than one man was engaged in this affair! The man in the muffler, hurrying away, may have only been one of several."
"Aye!" said Mr. Pawle, with a deep sigh. "There's something in all that. It may be as you say—a conspiracy. If we only knew the real object of the crime! But it appears to be becoming increasingly difficult to find it. . . . What is it?" he asked, as his clerk came into the room with a card. "I'm engaged."
The clerk came on, however, laid the card before his employer, and whispered a few words to him.
"A moment, then—I'll ring," said Mr. Pawle. He turned to his two companions as the clerk retired and closed the door, and smiled as he held up the card. "Here's another man who wants to tell me something about the Ashton case!" he exclaimed.
