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"I shall go home," said Jack Vance to his two chums; "Todderton's only about half an hour's ride from here on the railway. And, I say, I've got a grand idea: I'm going to write and get my mater to invite you fellows to come too! It would be jolly to have a meeting there of the Triple Alliance, and I'm sure old Denson would let you go if we came back on Monday night."
And then after a pause "Good heavens!" he burst out again. "Why, I only realise it now! There is the other crime, too! Denson! Two murders! Two and most certainly by the same hand! Mr. Plummer, I can't believe it! Oh, there's more behind, more behind, Mr. Hewitt." "There is more," said Hewitt, "as you will see when I tell you the little I have been able to ascertain.
I have told you my reasons for not thinking it the sign of any gang of criminals. But whose sign is it? Surely not that of some self-constituted punisher of crime? For such a person, with no risk to himself, could have handed Denson over to the police, if he knew of his offence. Can he have been murdered by an accomplice?
Denson comes out from the inner office, takes my case, and I wait in there." The case which Samuel showed Hewitt was of black leather, perhaps eighteen inches long by a foot wide. The arrangement of the office was simple. In this, the outer room, a small space was partitioned off by means of a ground glass screen, and it was in there that Samuel meant that he had waited.
Miss Whitmore, you will observe, had learned to interrupt when she had anything to say. It was the only course to pursue with anyone from Denson coulee. The Countess, having finished her scrubbing, rose jerkily and upset the soap can, which rolled over and over down the steps, leaving a yellow trail as it went. "Well, there, if that wasn't a bright trick uh mine?
"Can it be," I suggested, "that Samuel and Denson are working in collusion, and have perhaps insured the stones, and now want your help to make out a case of loss?" "Scarcely that, I think, for more than one reason. First, it isn't a risk any insurer would take, in the circumstances. Next, the insurer would certainly want to know why the police were not informed at once. But there is more.
Denson and his affairs they speedily forgot for a time, in the diversion which Rusty Brown's familiar place afforded to young men with unjaded nerves and a zest for the primitive pleasures.
Denson lives, or lived, in a boarding house in Bloomsbury. He has only been there two months, however, and they know practically nothing of him. To-day he came home at an unusual time, letting himself in with his latchkey, and went away at once with a bag, but the accounts of the exact time are contradictory. One servant thought it was before twelve, and another insisted that it was after one.
Cal Emmett asked of no one in particular, as the children went strutting off to the store to spend the dollar which little Sary clutched so tightly it seemed as if the goddess of liberty must surely have been imprinted upon her palm. When they went inside and found Denson himself pompously "setting 'em up to the house," Cal repeated the question in a slightly different form to the man himself.
"Very well," he said, "if those are your instructions, I'll do my best. And so you sent for me at once, as soon as you discovered the loss?" "Yes, at once." "Without telling anybody else?" "I haf tolt nobody." "Did you look about anywhere for Denson in the street, or what not?" "No what was the good? He was gone; there was time for him to go miles." "Very good.
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