But Jettison drew that covert blank, and the next, too, and it was not until he had been closeted for some time with the authorities of the third bank that he got, the information he wanted.

And when he had got it, he impressed secrecy and silence on his informants in a fashion which showed them that however easy-going his manner might be, he knew his business as thoroughly as they knew theirs.
It was by that time past one o'clock, and Jettison turned into the small hotel at which he had lodged himself.

He thought much and gravely while he ate his dinner; he thought still more while he smoked his after-dinner pipe.

And his face was still heavy with thought when, at three o'clock, he walked into Mitchington's office and finding the inspector alone shut the door and drew a chair to Mitchington's desk.
"Now then," he said.

"I've had a rare morning's work, and made a discovery, and you and me, my lad, have got to have about as serious a bit of talk as we've had since I came here." Mitchington pushed his papers aside and showed his keen attention.
"You remember what that young fellow told us last night about that man Collishaw paying in fifty pounds to the Second Friendly two days before his death," said Jettison.