Ashton-Kirk took out a card; handing it to the other, he said: 

“Ask him to come see me.”

Tobin gave the card one glance, then his face lit up and his hand went out.

“Let me shake your hand, sir,” said he.  “And I’ll tell the lad what you say with a heart and a half.”

CHAPTER XXI

ASHTON-KIRK BEGINS TO PLAN

As Ashton-Kirk and Pendleton left the “Rangnow,” the latter said: 

“You surely do not suppose that Morris will call on you?”

“Why not?”

“It does not sound reasonable.”

“A day or two ago I would have said the same.  But things are taking on a different aspect.  And with their change, Morris will change.  He had no idea of what was to come, or he would not have done what he has done.”

“No criminal would,” said Pendleton.

Ashton-Kirk shrugged his shoulders at this, but made no direct reply.

“And now if these newspapers, with all their pointed references to Edyth Vale, do not make the man come forward,” he went on, “what is about to happen—­say within the next forty-eight hours—­will be sure to do so.”

Pendleton turned a surprised look upon him.

“You think, then, that something unusual is about to happen?”

“I know there is,” was the quiet reply.  “To-night, old chap, has been most prolific in results.  It has indicated why the murder was done; it has suggested the identity of the actual murderer; it has even pointed out the spot upon which we shall finally take him.”

“You really mean all that?” cried Pendleton, incredulously.

“I do.”

“Then you must have learned it at some time while I was not—­” here Pendleton paused, and then proceeded in another tone.  “But you have not been out of my sight since dinner.  Everything you have heard, I have heard; all that you have seen, I have seen.”

“Just so,” said Ashton-Kirk.

There was a pause; they walked along toward the place where they were to get a street car.  At length Pendleton spoke once more.

“And from the rather bald reports of your two assistants, and the talk of this man, Tobin, you have gathered these most vital facts?”

“We can hardly call them facts as yet,” said the other; “but I have every confidence that we can do so within the time specified.”

A gong sounded sharply and a car crossed the street.  Pendleton placed his hand upon his friend’s shoulder.

“Kirk,” said he, “I am not going to ask another question.  I’m just going to wait, and if it turns out as you say, I’ll never question a statement of yours as long as I live.  I’ll swallow them all as the Mussulman swallows the Koran.”

They boarded the car and Ashton-Kirk settled himself in a corner.  His arms were folded across his chest, his head gradually sank forward.  To all appearances he was asleep; but Pendleton knew that he was merely turning over some plan of action that would, in a little time, begin to reveal itself.