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Carrados," he remarked, in English that scarcely betrayed any foreign origin, "a rather curious letter, I may say. You asked me about an ancient inscription. I know nothing of antiquities; but I thought, as you had sent, that it would be more courteous if I came and explained this to you." "That was the object of my letter," replied Carrados.
But that a sane man should spend his time 'playing with a toy' was beyond him." "A good many men have been flying kites of various kinds lately," said Carrados. "Is he interested in aviation?" "I dare say. He appears to have some knowledge of scientific subjects. Now what do you want me to do, Max?" "Will you do it?" "Implicitly subject to the usual reservations."
"Or you either for that matter, I imagine," he added, "for I don't think that you slept much last night." "I didn't sleep at all last night," corrected Mr. Draycott. "But it's strange that you should have seen that. I understood from Mr. Carlyle that you excuse me if I am mistaken, sir but I understood that you were blind." Carrados laughed his admission lightly. "Oh yes," he said.
Hutchins laughed his wry contempt. "Mr. Carlyle!" he reiterated; "Mr. Carlyle! Fat lot of good he's been. Why don't he do something for his money?" "He has," replied Carrados, with imperturbable good-humour; "he has sent me. Now, I want to ask you a few questions." "A few questions!" roared the irate man. "Why, blast it, I have done nothing else but answer questions for a month. I didn't pay Mr.
Could you not carry this one through?" "It is impossible. A wide inquiry must be made. Every port will have to be watched. The police alone can do that." He threw a little significance into the next sentence. "I alone can put the police in the right way of doing it." "And you will do that, Mr. Carrados?" Carrados smiled engagingly.
In attire he erred towards the immaculately spruce. "Mr. Carrados?" he said inquiringly. Carrados, who had risen, bowed slightly without offering his hand. "This gentleman," he said, indicating his friend, "is Mr. Carlyle, the celebrated private detective." The Indian shot a very sharp glance at the object of this description. Then he sat down. "You wrote me a letter, Mr.
Whatever opinion Carrados might have held privately, his genial exterior did not betray a shadow of dissent. For a full minute he continued to smoke as though he derived an actual visual enjoyment from the blue sprays that travelled and dispersed across the room.
Carlyle forget the weight and burden of his ruffled dignity. "Give me a few minutes, please. The cigarettes are behind you, Mr. Hollyer." The blind man walked to the window and seemed to look out over the cypress-shaded lawn. The lieutenant lit a cigarette and Mr. Carlyle picked up Punch. Then Carrados turned round again.
Carrados smiled affectionately at his guest's agile recovery and touched the secret spring of a drawer in an antique bureau by his side. The little hidden receptacle shot smoothly out, disclosing a pair of dull-blued pistols. "To-night, at all events, it might be prudent," he replied, handing one to Carlyle and putting the other into his own pocket.
"For that matter, if there is anything you want to know, I dare say that I can tell you," suggested his visitor. "It might save your time." "True," acquiesced Carrados. "I should like to know whether anyone belonging to the houses that bound the line there came of age or got married on the twenty-sixth of November." Mr. Carlyle looked across curiously at his host.
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