"How do you know I took a scrap of paper from Braden's purse ?" "Because I know that he had such a paper in his purse the night he came to the Mitre," answered Harker, "and was certain to have it there next morning, and because I also know that you were left alone with the body for some minutes after Varner fetched you to it, and that when Braden's clothing and effects were searched by Mitchington, the paper wasn't there.

So, of course, you took it! Doesn't matter to me that ye did--except that I know, from knowing that, that you're on a similar game to my own--which is why you went down to Leicestershire." "You knew Braden ?" asked Bryce.
"I knew him!" answered Harker.
"You saw him--spoke with him--here in Wrychester ?" suggested Bryce.
"He was here--in this room--in that chair--from five minutes past nine to close on ten o'clock the night before his death," replied Harker.
Bryce, who was quietly appreciating the Havana cigar which the old man had given him, picked up his glass, took a drink, and settled himself in his easy chair as if he meant to stay there awhile.
"I think we'd better talk confidentially, Mr.Harker," he said.
"Precisely what we are doing, Dr.Bryce," replied Harker.
"All right, my friend," said Bryce, laconically.

"Now we understand each other.

So--do you know who John Braden really was ?" "Yes!" replied Harker, promptly.

"He was in reality John Brake, ex-bank manager, ex-convict." "Do you know if he's any relatives here in Wrychester ?" inquired Bryce.
"Yes," said Harker.