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Updated: June 17, 2025
Did you? What happened?" "I went there yesterday afternoon. I took about half-a-dozen photographs of various chaps, including Rand-Brown." "But wait a bit. If Chesterton's two miles off, Rand-Brown couldn't have sent the letters. He wouldn't have the time after school. He was on the grounds both the afternoons before I got the letters." "I know," said Milton; "I didn't think of that at the time."
"Pretty useful, that," commented Trevor, admiringly. "Ye should see Moriarty," gasped O'Hara. "Now, will ye tell me why it is you're going to fight, and with whom you're going to fight?" "Very well. It's with Rand-Brown." "Rand-Brown!" exclaimed O'Hara. "But, me dearr man, he'll ate you." Trevor gave a rather annoyed laugh. "I must say I've got a nice, cheery, comforting lot of friends," he said.
He showed him the two letters from the League, touched on Milton's connection with the affair, traced the gradual development of his suspicions, and described with some approach to excitement the scene in Ruthven's study, and the explanations that had followed it. "Now do you wonder," he concluded, "that I feel as if a few rounds with Rand-Brown would do me good." O'Hara breathed hard.
The League ought to have a word to say about the business. It'll be a facer for them." "Do you remember," asked Trevor, "saying that you thought it must be Rand-Brown who wrote those letters?" "Yes. Well?" "Well, Milton had an idea that it was Rand-Brown who ragged his study." "What made him think that?" Trevor related the Shoeblossom incident. Clowes became quite excited.
I've had heaps of chances of watching them and comparing them, when they've been playing for the house. It isn't only that Rand-Brown can't tackle, and Barry can. Barry takes his passes much better, and doesn't lose his head when he's pressed." "Just what I thought," said Trevor. "Then you'd go on playing him for the first?" "Rather.
"And what are you going to do about Rand-Brown?" "Fight him, of course. What else could I do?" "But you're no match for him." "We'll see." "But you aren't," persisted Clowes. "He can give you a stone easily, and he's not a bad boxer either. Moriarty didn't beat him so very cheaply in the middle-weight this year. You wouldn't have a chance." Trevor flared up.
Rand-Brown seemed to turn a little pale, but his voice when he replied was quite steady. "That's a lie," he said. "Then, perhaps," said Trevor, "you wouldn't object to proving it." "How?" "By letting me search your study?" "You don't believe my word?" "Why should I? You don't believe mine." Rand-Brown made no comment on this remark. "Was that what you came here for?" he asked.
"Talking about Mill, of course?" he said. "Yes," said Drummond. "Have you seen his study since it happened?" "Yes." Rand-Brown smiled, as if the recollection amused him. He was one of those people who do not look their best when they smile. "Playing for the first tomorrow, Barry?" "I don't know," said Barry, shortly. "I haven't seen the list." He objected to the introduction of the topic.
Then O'Hara said that as I was the only one there with a watch he and Rand-Brown were in footer clothes, and Merrett and Moriarty hadn't got their tickers on them I'd better act as timekeeper. So I said all right, I would, and we went to the second fives-court. It's the biggest of them, you know.
"It's one of the beastliest things I ever heard. They neither of them come particularly well out of the business, but Rand-Brown comes worse out of it even than Ruthven. My word, that man wants killing." "That'll keep," said Clowes, nodding. "What's the yarn?" "Do you remember about a year ago a chap named Patterson getting sacked?" Clowes nodded again. He remembered the case well.
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