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"Never mind about that," said Janet. "We can't bother about what is done. The thing is, what we are to do. How funny of Mr. Lenox not to have thought about the license! he thought of everything else." "Yes, and X. too," said Robert. "But it's just terrible to have to go back and wait all day for the inspector. We are due at Evesham this afternoon."

"How in thunder came you to know anything about it?" he asked. "Simply that I put it there." "You put it there! You!" "Perhaps I should have said 'replaced it there," said Holmes. "You will remember, Inspector MacDonald, that I was somewhat struck by the absence of a dumb-bell.

Punctually at three o'clock the next afternoon, they walked up the steps of the lawyers' office together. Jasper Cole was already there, and to Mr. Mann's surprise so also was Inspector Nash, who explained his presence in a few words. "There may be something in the will which will open a new viewpoint," he said. Mr.

I wish you had informed me of your intention to go down to-night." "If you had informed me of your intention to remain in the neighborhood, that might have been possible," was the cool reply. The man took the loose wooden rail from its place and held it under his arm. "Walking off with a portion of my fence, eh?" Tallente asked. The inspector made no direct reply.

In front of us was the hole in the shore ice and all the smash and flurry where we had gone through. Where we had crawled on shore, from under the intact ice roof, was bare rock, wind-swept clean. It struck me that with a little management, and to a cursory inspector, it could look as though Paulette and I were drowned like Thompson. The snow had not piled on this side the lake as it had on ours.

Holmes was not prone to friendship, but he was tolerant of the big Scotchman, and smiled at the sight of him. "You are an early bird, Mr. Mac," said he. "I wish you luck with your worm. I fear this means that there is some mischief afoot." "If you said 'hope' instead of 'fear, it would be nearer the truth, I'm thinking, Mr. Holmes," the inspector answered, with a knowing grin.

I cried in great wrath and then stopped short, and burst out laughing. "What an absurd and gruesome conversation," I said, holding out my hand. "Good-bye, Frau Inspector, I am sure you are wanted in that cottage." She made me a curtsey and turned back.

The Inspector, with two deputies, rode suddenly into the camp. The Inspector paused to speak to Laura. Long Jim's eyes sparkled as he saw them approach. "It's old Harris and fat Andy," he whispered. "We'll have some fun with them." The older of the two deputies approached them frowning. "Been at your games again, Long Jim?" he began.

"Oh," said I, in perfectly good faith, "the mistakes are bad enough, but the writing is far worse. It really is a disgrace." "Oh, my writing!" said the inspector; "I copied the theme out." Even after the lapse of twenty years I turn hot all over when I recall the sensations of that moment. It was "A.K.H.B.," if I recollect aright, who wrote a popular essay on "The Art of Putting Things."

"What! the famous coronet of the Princesse de Lamballe?" said M. Formery. "Yes," said the Duke. "But according to your report, inspector, the letter signed 'Lupin' announced that he was going to steal the coronet also." "It did in so many words," said the Duke. "Well, here is a further proof that we're not dealing with Lupin.

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