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Updated: September 15, 2025
I want to complete my case: in other words, Guy I want to win!" "And you will, sir; you've never failed yet! Only I I don't have any luck!" The young man's haggard face grew wistful. "I want Emily Brunell; I need her and I seem farther from finding her than ever!" "I didn't know that was your job!" the detective objected, with a brusqueness which was not unkind.
Morrow made it a point to visit and investigate the little shop at an hour when he knew Brunell would not be there, and found in the cursory examination possible at that time that its purpose seemed to be strictly legitimate.
Blaine's voice was vexed, but little smiling lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes. "I beg your pardon, sir; I am almost crazy, I think with happiness. I've found Mr. Jimmy Brunell and his daughter. They are the two mysterious boarders whom Mrs. Quinlan has been shielding all this time, and I never even suspected it! It was Jimmy Brunell who fired at me that night of the day they disappeared.
She had two new lodgers instead of the single rheumatic old gentleman she had pictured; two, and one of them had entered his own room, and from the window fired that shot across the street at him, as he bent over the lamp in the Brunell cottage. He had one problematic advantage it was possible that he had not been recognized as the intruder in the deserted house.
"You actually had the letter in your hands, and relinquished it? In heaven's name, why?" "Miss Brunell had shown it to me in confidence. It was her property, and she trusted me. Since I was unable to aid her in solving it, I returned it to her.
He added confidentially: "The ponies are still running, you know, even if the betting-ring is closed and there are other ways " He paused significantly. "I see, a sport, eh?" Pennold darted a quick glance at his wife. "Well, don't let it get the best of you, young feller. Remember what I told you about Jimmy Brunell at least, what the report of him was.
"Yes, sir, I'm Brunell," the latter announced, when the incidental salutations were over, " Jimmy Brunell, the forger. I've lived straight, and tried to keep the truth from my little girl, for her own sake, but perhaps it is better as it is. She knows everything now, and has forgiven much, because she's a woman like her mother, God bless her!
On the floor near the bureau on which the lamp stood, something white and crumpled met Morrow's eye; he stooped quickly and picked it up. It was a large single sheet of paper, and as the operative smoothed it out, he realized that it must be the message which had been hurriedly brought to Brunell in the early hour before the dawn.
Guy, I'm going to take you off the Brunell trail for a while, and put you on this man Paddington. I'll have Suraci look up Charley Pennold and get a line on him. In the meantime, leave your key to the map-making shop with me. I may want to have a look at that forgery outfit myself." "You're going to take me off the Brunell trail!"
Al Goetz edits it, you know, and he gives you the straight dope. There'll be nothing to that fight they're pulling off Saturday night at the Zucker Athletic Club Hennessey'll put it all over Schnabel in the first round. Good-by! If you hear anything of this Brunell, be sure you let me or the bank know!"
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