“Why, the reason of Marbury’s being found where he was found,” replied Breton.  “Of course, I see it all!  Marbury was mooning around Fleet Street; he slipped into Middle Temple Lane, late as it was, just to see where old Cardlestone hangs out, and he was set upon and done for.  The thing’s plain to me.  The only thing now is to find who did it.”

“Yes, that’s it,” agreed Spargo.  “That’s it.”  He turned over the leaves of the diary which lay on his desk.  “By the by,” he said, looking up with some interest, “the adjourned inquest is at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.  Are you going?”

“I shall certainly go,” answered Breton.  “What’s more, I’m going to take Miss Aylmore and her sister.  As the gruesome details were over at the first sitting, and as there’ll he nothing but this new evidence tomorrow, and as they’ve never been in a coroner’s court——­”

“Mr. Aylmore’ll be the principal witness tomorrow,” interrupted Spargo.  “I suppose he’ll be able to tell a lot more than he told—­me.”

Breton shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t see that there’s much more to tell,” he said.  “But,” he added, with a sly laugh, “I suppose you want some more good copy, eh?”

Spargo glanced at his watch, rose, and picked up his hat.  “I’ll tell you what I want,” he said.  “I want to know who John Marbury was.  That would make good copy.  Who he was—­twenty—­twenty-five—­forty years ago.  Eh?”

“And you think Mr. Aylmore can tell?” asked Breton.

“Mr. Aylmore,” answered Spargo as they walked towards the door, “is the only person I have met so far who has admitted that he knew John Marbury in the—­past.  But he didn’t tell me—­much.  Perhaps he’ll tell the coroner and his jury—­more.  Now, I’m off Breton—­I’ve an appointment.”

And leaving Breton to find his own way out, Spargo hurried away, jumped into a taxi-cab and speeded to the London and Universal Safe Deposit.  At the corner of its building he found Rathbury awaiting him.

“Well?” said Spargo, as he sprang out:  “How is it?”

“It’s all right,” answered Rathbury.  “You can be present:  I got the necessary permission.  As there are no relations known, there’ll only be one or two officials and you, and the Safe Deposit people, and myself.  Come on—­it’s about time.”

“It sounds,” observed Spargo, “like an exhumation.”

Rathbury laughed.  “Well, we’re certainly going to dig up a dead man’s secrets,” he said.  “At least, we may be going to do so.  In my opinion, Mr. Spargo, we’ll find some clue in this leather box.”

Spargo made no answer.  They entered the office, to be shown into a room where were already assembled Mr. Myerst, a gentleman who turned out to be the chairman of the company, and the officials of whom Rathbury had spoken.  And in another moment Spargo heard the chairman explaining that the company possessed duplicate keys to all safes, and that the proper authorization having been received from the proper authorities, those present would now proceed to the safe recently tenanted by the late Mr. John Marbury, and take from it the property which he himself had deposited there, a small leather box, which they would afterwards bring to that room and cause to be opened in each other’s presence.