3

Next morning I had to go to Church House for a meeting.  I got the Daily Haste (which I seldom see) to read in the underground.  On the front page, side by side with murders, suicides, divorces, allied notes, and Sinn Fein outrages, was a paragraph headed ’The Hobart Mystery.  Suspicion of Foul Play.’  It was about how Hobart’s sudden death had never been adequately investigated, and how curious and suspicious circumstances had of late been discovered in connection with it, and inquiries were being pursued, and the Haste, which was naturally specially interested, hoped to give more news very soon.

So old Pinkerton was making a journalistic scoop of it.  Of course; one might have known he would.

At my meeting (Pulpit Exchange, it was about) I met Frank Potter.  He is a queer chap—­commercial and grasping, like all his family, and dull too, and used to talk one sick about how little scope he had in his parish, and so on.  Since he got to St. Agatha’s he’s cheered up a bit, and talks to me now instead of his big congregations and their fat purses.  He’s a dull-minded creature—­rather stupid and entirely conventional.  He’s all against pulpit exchange, of course; he thinks it would be out of order and tradition.  So it would.  And he’s a long way keener on order and tradition than he is on spiritual progress.  A born Pharisee, he is really, and yet with Christianity struggling in him here and there; and that’s why he’s rather interesting, in spite of his dullness.

After the meeting I went up to him and showed him the Haste.

‘Can’t this be stopped?’ I asked him.

He blinked at it.

‘That’s what Johnny is up in arms against too,’ he said.  ’He swears by this chap who is suspected, and won’t hear a word against him.’

‘Well,’ I said, ’the question is, can Johnny or any one else do anything to stop it?...  I’ve tried.  I spoke to Lady Pinkerton the other day.  It was no use.  Can you do anything?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ he said, rather apathetically.  ’You see, my people believe Gideon killed Hobart, and are determined to press the matter.  One can’t blame them, you know, if they really think that.  My mother feels perfectly sure of it, from various bits of evidence she’s got hold of, and won’t be happy till the thing is thoroughly sifted.  Of course, if Gideon’s innocent, it’s best for him, too, to have the thing out, now it’s got so far.  Don’t you agree?’

’I don’t.  Why should a man have to waste his time appearing in a criminal court to answer to a charge of manslaughter or murder which he never committed?  Gideon happens to have other things to do than to make a nine days’ wonder for the press and public.’

I suppose that annoyed Potter rather.  He said sharply, ’It’s up to the chap to prove his innocence.  Till he does, a great many people will believe him guilty, I’m afraid.’

‘Including yourself, obviously.’