So now, he said to himself, he must make a still more definite move against Ransford.

He must strengthen and deepen the suspicions which the police already had: he must give them chapter and verse and supply them with information, and get Ransford into the tightest of corners, solely that, in order to win Mary Bewery, he might have the credit of pulling him out again.

That, he felt certain, he could do--if he could make a net in which to enclose Ransford he could also invent a two-edged sword which would cut every mesh of that net into fragments.

That would be--child's play--mere statecraft--elementary diplomacy.

But first--to get Ransford fairly bottled up--that was the thing! He determined to lose no more time--and he was thinking of visiting Mitchington immediately after breakfast next morning when Mitchington knocked at his door.
Bryce was rarely taken back, and on seeing Mitchington and a companion, he forthwith invited them into his parlour, put out his whisky and cigars, and pressed both on them as if their late call were a matter of usual occurrence.