United States or Saint Lucia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Dr. Beddersley gazed hard at them. "Give me an hour or two," he said "and a box of water-colours. I think by that time putting two and two together I can eliminate the false and build up for you a tolerably correct idea of what the actual man himself looks like."
Paul Finglemore drew back even while we held his shoulders. "No, not you, sir," he said to the man, haughtily. "Don't dare to lay your hands upon me! Send for a constable if you wish, Sir Charles Vandrift; but I decline to be taken into custody by a valet!" "Go for a policeman," Dr. Beddersley said to Simpson, standing forward. The prisoner eyed him up and down. "Oh, Dr.
Beddersley!" he said, relieved. It was evident he knew him. "If you've tracked me strictly in accordance with Bertillon's methods, I don't mind so much. I will not yield to fools; I yield to science. I didn't think this diamond king had sense enough to apply to you. He's the most gullible old ass I ever met in my life. But if it's you who have tracked me down, I can only submit to it."
Frank Beddersley, of London, was the best exponent of the Bertillon system now living in England; and to Beddersley I shall go. Or, rather, I'll invite him here to lunch to-morrow." "Who told you of him?" I inquired. "Not Dr. Quackenboss, I hope; nor yet Mr. Algernon Coleyard?" Charles paused and reflected. "No, neither of them," he answered, after a short internal deliberation.
The policeman, in obedience to Charles's orders, held him tight with his hand, but steadily refused, as the prisoner was not violent, to handcuff him. We hailed a passing hansom. "To Bow Street!" Charles cried, unceremoniously pushing in policeman and prisoner. The driver nodded. We called a four-wheeler ourselves, in which my brother-in-law, Dr. Beddersley and myself took our seats.
"And this young lady," he said, "has quite unintentionally and unconsciously succeeded in tracking Colonel Clay to earth at last. They are genuine photographs of the man as he is without the disguises!" "They look to me most blotchy," Charles murmured. "Great black lines down the nose, and such spots on the cheek, too!" "Exactly," Beddersley put in. "Those are differences in texture.
"Quite so," Dr. Beddersley answered. "That is just what I should expect. Now, the question is, do you know him to be one man, or is he really a gang? Is he a name for a syndicate? Have you any photographs of Colonel Clay himself in any of his disguises?" "Not one," Charles answered. "He produced some himself, when he was Medhurst the detective.
Beddersley came a dapper little man, with pent-house eyebrows, and keen, small eyes, whom I suspected at sight of being Colonel Clay himself in another of his clever polymorphic embodiments. He was clear and concise. His manner was scientific.
The moment Beddersley's eye fell upon them, a curious look came over his face. "Why, these," he said, "are taken on Herbert Winslow's method, Miss Lingfield." "Yes," Dolly admitted timidly. "They are. He's a friend of mine, don't you know; and he gave me some plates that just fitted my camera." Beddersley gazed at them steadily. Then he turned to Charles.
But he pocketed them at once; and we never recovered them." "Could you get any?" the doctor asked. "Did you note the name and address of the photographer?" "Unfortunately, no," Charles replied. "But the police at Nice showed us two. Perhaps we might borrow them." "Until we get them," Dr. Beddersley said, "I don't know that we can do anything.
Word Of The Day