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"'Well, whatcher want? he wheezed with returning breath. "'I want Spargo, the only Spargo. "'Then leave go, an' I'll glide an' see. "'No you don't, my lily-white. And I took a tighter grip on his collar. 'No bouncers in mine, understand! I'll go along." Leith dreamily surveyed the long ash of his cigar and turned to me.
"Oh, all right," said Spargo. "Trust me." He put the silver ticket in his pocket, and went back to the office, wondering about this singular find. And when he had written his article that evening, and seen a proof of it, Spargo went into Fleet Street intent on seeking peculiar information.
If Spargo had upset the old gentlemen's bowl of punch the second of the evening or had dropped an infernal machine in their midst, he could scarcely have produced a more startling effect than that wrought upon them by his sudden production of the silver ticket.
Myerst. "He appeared to be greatly relieved when he found that it was impossible for anyone but himself to take his property from his safe." "Ah!" said Rathbury, winking at Spargo. "So he would, no doubt. And Marbury himself, sir, now? How did he strike you?" Mr. Myerst gravely considered this question. "Mr. Marbury struck me," he answered at last, "as a man who had probably seen strange places.
Elphick's face not only fell, but changed; his expression of almost sneering contempt was transformed to one clearly resembling abject terror; he dropped his pipe, fell back in his chair, recovered himself, gripped the chair's arms, and stared at Spargo as if the young man had suddenly announced to him that in another minute he must be led to instant execution.
His clothes of buff-coloured whipcord were smart and jaunty, his neckerchief as gay as if he had been going to a fair. It seemed to Spargo that Mr. Quarterpage had a pretty long lease of life before him even at his age. Spargo, in his corner, sat fascinated while the old gentlemen began their symposium.
"I've just thought of something else," he said. "I told you that I'm certain Marbury was Maitland, and that he came to a sad end murdered." "And I've told you," she replied scornfully, "that in my opinion no end could be too bad for him." "Just so I understand you," said Spargo. "But I didn't tell you that he was not only murdered but robbed robbed of probably a good deal.
But the smoke was gradually making itself into a canopy, and beneath the canopy Spargo made out various groups of men of all ages, sitting around small tables, smoking and drinking, and all talking as if the great object of their lives was to get as many words as possible out of their mouths in the shortest possible time. In the further corner was a small bar; Starkey pulled Spargo up to it.
It was sent to Corkindale by a nephew of Chamberlayne's, another Chamberlayne, Stephen, who lived in London, and was understood to be on the Stock Exchange there. I saw that telegram, Mr. Spargo, and it was a long one. It said that Chamberlayne had had a sudden seizure, and though a doctor had been got to him he'd died shortly afterwards.
Spargo there when he was making his enquiries of me a short while back, it would never have been any surprise to me to hear definitely, I mean, young gentlemen that all this money that was in question went into Chamberlayne's pockets. Dear me dear me! and you really believe that Chamberlayne is actually alive, Mr. Spargo?" Spargo pulled out his watch.
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