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There's an inn here at this junction: there's the Moor Cock Inn a mile or so along the road which we must take before we turn off to the moorland and the fells. It's going to be a black night look at those masses of black cloud gathering there! and possibly a wet one, and we've no waterproofs. But it's for you to say I'm game for whatever you like." "Do you know the way?" asked Spargo.
"I supplied half a dozen copies to Miss Baylis, the child's aunt, who, as a matter of fact, brought him here to be photographed. And I can give you her address, too," he continued, beginning to turn over another old file. "I have it somewhere." Mr. Quarterpage nudged Spargo. "That's something I couldn't have done!" he remarked.
Full of haste as he was Breton paused at the foot of the stair. He looked down at the floor and at the wall at its side. "Wasn't it there?" he said in a low voice, pointing at the place he looked at. "Wasn't it there, Spargo, just there, that Marbury, or, rather, Maitland, was found?" "It was just there," answered Spargo. "You saw him?" "I saw him." "Soon afterwards?"
Spargo, you'll gather, is deeply interested in this matter and he and I, in our different capacities, are working together. So you understand?" Myerst regarded Spargo in a new light. And while he was so looking at him. Spargo repeated the question he had just put. "I said What did you say to that?" Myerst hesitated. "Well er I don't think I said anything," he replied.
The charwoman sat down in the nearest chair and began to moan and sob; Breton strode forward, across the heaps of papers and miscellaneous objects tossed aside in that hurried search and clearing up, into the inner room. And Spargo, looking about him, suddenly caught sight of something lying on the floor at which he made a sharp clutch.
Heard half a dozen of 'em say it, in more or less elegant fashion as I came out of that court. Of course, they'll say it. Why, what else could they say?" For a moment Jessie Aylmore sat looking silently into her tea-cup. Then she turned her eyes on Spargo, who immediately manifested a new interest in what remained of the tea-cakes.
Aylmore is my prospective father-in-law, you know." "Quite aware of it. Didn't you introduce me to his daughters only yesterday?" "But how did you know they were his daughters?" Spargo laughed as he sat down to his desk. "Instinct intuition," he answered. "However, never mind that, just now. Well I've found something out.
He pointed a finger at Spargo as the latter came up with the girls: Spargo gathered that Breton was speaking of the murder and of his, Spargo's, connection with it. And directly they approached, he spoke. "This is Mr. Spargo, sub-editor of the Watchman." Breton said. "Mr. Elphick Mr. Spargo. I was just telling Mr. Elphick, Spargo, that you saw this poor man soon after he was found."
The only clue to possible identity lay in the fact that a soft cap of grey cloth appeared to have been newly purchased at a fashionable shop in the West End. Spargo went home; there seemed to be nothing to stop for. He ate his food and he went to bed, only to do poor things in the way of sleeping.
He picked up the silver ticket again and turned it over and over. "Look here, Rathbury," he said. "Let me take this silver thing. I know where I can find out what it is. At least, I think I do. "All right," agreed the detective, "but take the greatest care of it, and don't tell a soul that we found it in this box, you know. No connection with the Marbury case, Spargo, remember."
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