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Updated: May 2, 2025
He closed the door upon them and Starmidge and Easleby glanced round before taking the chairs to which Mr. Stipp had pointed. There was little to see.
Stipp came bustling in, closing the door behind him. He took off overcoat and hat, ran his fingers through his light hair, and, seating himself, glanced smilingly at his visitors. "Well, gentlemen!" he demanded. "What can I do for you now? Want to make some inquiries?" "Just a few small inquiries, sir," replied Easleby. "I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name Mr. ?"
"One result of our profession, young Starmidge," observed the middle-aged Easleby, bending towards his companion over a well-filled plate, "is that it makes a man indulge in a tremendous lot of what you might call intellectual speculation!" "What are you speculating about?" asked Starmidge. "This on information received," replied Easleby, as he lifted his tankard.
They're within the law." "What about the Moneylenders' Act?" asked Easleby. "Compulsory registration, you know." "It's this way," explained Starmidge. "The object of that Act was to enable a borrower to know for certain who it was that was lending him the money he borrowed. So registration was made compulsory.
The last time that Guy called on him, he told him flatly that he would have his fifteen thousand to the last shilling. It was, of course, extortion!" Starmidge and Easleby exchanged looks. Both felt that they were on the very edge of a discovery. "To be sure, ma'am," asserted Starmidge. "Absolute extortion! And what is the name of the money-lending gentleman?" "His name," replied Mrs.
He ended with a dry laugh, and waved his hand as if the matter were settled. But Starmidge had a love of precision, and liked matters to be put in plain words. "Well and what then?" he demanded. "What, then?" exclaimed Easleby. "Why, then we shall know, for a certainty, that Gabriel Chestermarke is keen about his secret!
Hollis money for that? Why! Mr. Hollis never told me of it!" In the course of a long professional experience Easleby had learned to control his facial expression; Starmidge was gradually progressing towards perfection in that art. But each man was hard put to it to check an expression of astonishment. And Easleby showed some slight sign of perplexity when he replied. "Mr.
With the folded paper in his hand, and Starmidge at his heel, he repaired to the stage-door of the Adalbert Theatre at a quarter to eight, when the actors and actresses were beginning to pass in for their evening's work and thrust his head into the glass-fronted cage in which the stage door-keeper sat. "A word with you, mister," whimpered Easleby. "A quiet word, you understand.
Do you think he's cultivated it as a secret that it's been a really important secret?" "We can soon solve that," answered Easleby. "At least tomorrow morning." "How?" demanded Starmidge. "By calling," said Easleby, "on Mr. Godwin Markham, in Conduit Street." Starmidge looked at his companion as if in doubt about Easleby's exact meaning.
He glanced up from the cards which lay before him to the two men who had sent them in, and silently pointed them to chairs near his own. "Good-evening, sir," said Easleby, with a polite bow. "Sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Castlemayne, but you see our business from our cards, and we've called, sir, to ask if you can give us a bit of much-wanted information.
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