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Updated: May 13, 2025
Brunger at the inn, closely dogging the landlord; then he seized the cat and in a second was bounding through the copse to Herons' Holt as Mrs. Major, a short space ago, had bounded before him. Of Twin Cats: Of Ananias And Of Sapphira. The maid who opened the door told George that the master awaited him in the study. Nothing of George's excitement had left him during the rush down to the house.
There was no scandal, no effective news; but there was matter for a sensational, semi-mysterious "leading story" in a tiny little scrap of news dictated by Mr. David Brunger, laboriously copied out a dozen times by Mr. Issy Jago and left by that gentleman at the offices of as many newspapers.
I'm afraid that is impossible, sir. Mr. Brunger has his hands very full just now. He is closeted with Scotland Yard. At this moment, sir, the Yard is consulting him ...'m...'m. Well, I'll see, sir, I'll see. I doubt it. I very much doubt it. But hold the line a minute, sir." In his capacity of Mr. David Brunger's private secretary, Mr.
"What is a hundred pounds or thrice that sum against the restoration of your cat? Come, what is it, sir?" "Ruin," answered Mr. Marrapit, gulping barley water. "Ruin." Mr. Brunger urged gravely: "Oh, don't say that, sir. Think what our dumb pets are to us. I've got a blood-'ound at home myself that I'd give my life for if I lost gladly.
That was about ten o'clock, and I caught the mid-day train I've been here since two. Well, Brunger the detective chap, you know Marrapit was going to send him on here at once " This was the precipice. George went hurtling over the edge with whirling brain: "Brunger coming down here?" he cried. "Rather! Now, we three together, old man " "When's he coming?" George asked.
"Let's get these gangs settled first." George took a chair. He had no plan. He plunged wildly. "Gang A, gang B, gang C, gang D " Mr. Brunger stopped short in the midst of his note. "Why, that's four gangs!" The twisting of George's legs beneath the table was sympathetic with the struggles of his bewildered mind. He said desperately, "Well, there are four gangs."
Brunger was occupied in composing an unsolicited testimonial to be sent to the wife of a green-grocer in the Borough who, on the previous day, had summoned her husband for assault at Lambeth Police-Court. "I had suspicions but no proof of my 'usband's infidelity," dictated Mr. Brunger, pacing the floor, "until I enlisted your services. I must say " At that moment the telephone bell rang. Mr.
Brunger sharply reminded him. My miserable George dug his fingers into his hair. "I meant three I'd forgotten the other." "Don't see how a man can forget a whole gang," objected the detective. He stared at George; frowned; produced his note-book. "Let us have the facts, sir." As if drawn by the glare fixed upon him, George moved from the sofa to the table. "Now, the facts," Mr. Brunger repeated.
Brunger allowed a hiatus delicately to express his meaning. "Then depend upon it, sir, we have a determination to secure this cat by foul means since fair will not avail. We have a conspiracy among unscrupulous breeders to obtain this valuable cat, and hence, sir, we have a gang a gang." Mr. Marrapit put his anguish of mind into two very deep groans. "Keep calm, my dear sir," Mr. Brunger soothed.
David Brunger from time to time caused to appear in the Press. "Watch your wife," said these advertisements, adding in smaller type that had the appearance of a whisper: "David Brunger will watch her." "What keeps your husband late at office?" they continued. "David Brunger will find out. David Brunger has never failed.
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