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Updated: May 14, 2025
"It's de train newsboy whut yo' give a dollar to las' night, Colonel!" "The one who wanted to sell me a detective story?" "I'm him, Colonel Brentnall," answered the lad, a smile of triumph lighting up his face. "Your man told me who you was, and I heard you tell the taxi man where to drive you. I didn't think anything more about it until I read about the murder."
The colonel was sufficiently familiar with his alias not to betray surprise when it was used. "I am," he said, and the peaceful, joyous look that had come into his eyes when he had landed his fish gave way to a hard and professional stare. "Oh, Colonel Brentnall! I've come to ask you to help me help him! You will, won't you? Don't say you won't!"
Tom came and told me and said we must get Colonel Brentnall at once. That was the name he used, but, now he has consented to take your case, he's Colonel Ashley again." "And what am I to do, Amy?" "Just what he tells you nothing more or less. Tell him everything from the beginning to the end. All about your quarrel with Mrs. Darcy I read in the papers you had one. Was that so?"
"I don't know anything about police or detectives," she went on, "but I'm sure there must be some way of proving that my that Jimmie had no hand in this. Some terrible thief a burglar must have killed Mrs. Darcy. Oh, Colonel Brentnall, you will help us won't you?" She stood there, a beautiful and pathetic picture.
I am known in Colchester as Colonel Brentnall, having registered at the hotel under that name. I will keep that name for the present. I followed you here in fact, I only entered this office a minute or two ahead of you. So it was to find the diamond cross you visited the store of the murdered woman?" "Yes. When I had damaged the cross by stepping on it, I thought my old friend, Mrs.
"There he is," went the words of the boy, as he and the young woman came in sight of the colonel and Shag but it was at the detective the lad pointed. "There he is!" The girl rushed impulsively forward, and, as she held out her hands in a voiceless appeal, there was worry and anguish depicted on her face. "Are you Colonel Brentnall?" she asked.
"Not that name, Spotty, if you please," and the fisherman-detective smiled in easy fashion. "You know my little habits in that regard. I'm known here as Brentnall, and, if it's all the same to you, just use that. As for you, if Spotty " "Oh, that suits me as well as any other. I can change whenever I like."
Then, leaning toward the newsboy and whispering, the negro said: "My marster, Colonel Brentnall dat ain't his real name, but it's de one he goes by sometimes he don't care fo' no detective stories 'cause he done make his livin' an' mine too, at detectin'. He says he don't ever want t' read 'em, 'cause dey ain't at all like whut happens.
So loosen up as soon as you can." They took King and Darcy to police headquarters in a taxicab which King, with still half-drunken gravity, insisted on paying for. Colonel Ashley or Colonel Brentnall as he had registered at the hotel having, by means of a more or less adroit bit of camouflage, obtained possession of the newspaper containing an account of the murder of Mrs.
The slim little man gave a wiggle like an eel, and would have darted away through the crowd, but there was a vice-like grip on his shoulder that he knew but too well. "Spotty, my name's Brentnall for the present," said the colonel, with a grim smile. "And you'd better come with me. How about it?"
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