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And Millwaters was in the police-court, meditatively sucking peppermint lozenges in a corner, when Mr. Cave was unexpectedly asked to give evidence; he was there, too, until Mr. Cave left the court. Cave's remarkable story ran off Millwaters' mentality like raindrops off a steep roof. It mattered nothing to him.
Millwaters and I heard from a denizen of these unlovely parts that there was a back entrance. We'd tried in vain for admittance at the front " "But they've got in now, Mr. Perkwite!" exclaimed Millwaters suddenly. "See, there's Mr. Carless at a back window, waving to us to come in. I suppose we can get in by the back, Mr. Viner?"
It was not until he had got into the main thoroughfare that he found one; he then had some slight delay in getting in communication with Carless and Driver's office; twenty minutes had elapsed by the time he got back to the dismal street. At its corner he encountered Millwaters, lounging about hands in pockets. Millwaters wagged his head. "Here's another queer go!" he said.
Perkwite pulled up, and Millwaters went down the dismal street in pursuit of the Homburg hat. This excellent indication of its owner's presence suddenly vanished from Perkwite's sight, and presently Millwaters came back. "Ran him to earth for the time being, anyway," he said. "He's gone into a surgery down there a Dr. Martincole's. Number 23 brass plate on door next to a drug-shop.
Portlethwaite, after Methley and his client had left Carless and Driver's office, had given certain instructions to one of his fellow-clerks, a man named Millwaters, in whose prowess as a spy he had unlimited belief. Millwaters was a fellow of experience. He possessed all the qualities of a sleuth-hound and was not easily baffled in difficult adventures.
And within a minute Millwaters had observed what seemed to him highly suspicious circumstance Cave, on leaving the others, had shot off down a side-street in the direction of Lancaster Gate, but as soon as he was out of sight of Markendale Square, had doubled in his tracks, hurried down another turning and sped away as fast as he could walk towards Paddington Station.
Suspicious sort of spot, altogether." "Well?" demanded Perkwite. "What next? You know best, Millwaters." The clerk jerked a thumb down the side of the dismal street on which they were standing. "There's a public-house down there," he said, "almost opposite this surgery. Fairly decent place for this neighbourhood bar-parlour looking out on the street. Better slip in there and look quietly out.
"Whatever can any of them be doing there!" muttered Perkwite. "Viner! What business can he have in this place? It seems by George, Millwaters," he suddenly exclaimed, "what if this is some infernal plant trap something of that sort? Do you know, in spite of what you say, I really think we ought to get hold of the nearest police and tell them " "Wait, Mr. Perkwite!" counselled Millwaters.
Viner's, in Markendale Square?" said Perkwite. "Right again, sir," assented Millwaters. "I did." "This fellow in front," observed Perkwite, "made some statements at Viner's, in answer to your principal, Mr. Carless, which incline me to the opinion that he's an impostor in spite of his carefully concocted stories." "Shouldn't wonder, Mr. Perkwite." said Millwaters. "But that's not my business.
"You're a pretty good hand yourself, I think?" suggested the barrister, with a smile. "Ought to be," said Millwaters. "Had plenty of experience, anyway." It seemed to Perkwite that his companion kept no particular observation on the car in front as it sped along to and through the northern edge of the City and beyond.
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