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Updated: June 2, 2025
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.
Bryce resolved it in his own mind over and over again as he sped home to Wrychester he pictured the police listening greedily to all that he could tell them if he liked. There was only one factor in the whole sum of the affair which seemed against him the advertisement in the Times.
And they were still discussing it an hour later when a telegram was handed to Mitchington, who tore it open, glanced over its contents and passed it to his companion who read it aloud. "Meet me with Jettison Wrychester Station on arrival of five-twenty express from London mystery cleared up guilty men known Ransford." Jettison handed the telegram back. "A man of his word!" he said.
"That man who called himself Dellingham who came with Brake to the Mitre Hotel at Wrychester who is he? Where did Brake meet him? Where did he go? Seems to me the police have been strangely negligent about that! According to the accounts I've read, everybody just accepted this Dellingham's first statement, took his word, and let him vanish!
In Bryce's opinion, it was something of a wild-goose chase to go there, but the similarity in the name of the village and of the dead man at Wrychester might have its significance, and it was but a two miles' stroll from Barthorpe. He found Braden Medworth a very small, quiet, and picturesque place, with an old church on the banks of a river which promised good sport to anglers.
Dellingham that it was his intention to remain in Wrychester for at any rate a few days, they went downstairs again, and Bryce and the inspector crossed over to the police-station. The news had spread through the heart of the city, and at the police-station doors a crowd had gathered. Just inside two or three principal citizens were talking to the Superintendent amongst them was Mr.
On the day previous to that on which Collishaw handed that fifty pounds to Stebbing, a certain Wrychester man drew fifty pounds in gold at his bank. Who do you think he was?" "Who who?" demanded Mitchington. Jettison leaned half-across the desk. "Bryce!" he said in a whisper. "Bryce!" Mitchington sat up in his chair and opened his mouth in sheer astonishment.
Ransford snapped his fingers. "I don't care that about the rumours!" he answered, contemptuously. "They'll be crushed out just as suddenly as they arose and then, perhaps, I'll let certain folk in Wrychester know what I think of them. And as regards the suspicion against me, I know already that the only people in the town for whose opinion I care fully accept what I said before the Coroner.
"First I ever heard of it, then," said Glassdale. "And that's a fact, too!" "He'd also a very close friend named Ransford Mark Ransford," continued Bryce. "This Ransford was best man at Brake's wedding." "Never heard him speak of Ransford, nor of any wedding!" affirmed Glassdale. "All news to me, doctor." "This Ransford is now in practice in Wrychester," said Bryce.
Anyway, he said nothing, and from that moment I never set eyes on him again until I met him in the street here in Wrychester, the other night, when he came to the Mitre. I knew him at once and he knew me. We met under one of those big standard lamps in the Market Place I was following my usual practice of having an evening walk, last thing before going to bed.
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