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Updated: May 15, 2025
Inoffensive, pleasant old chap. Potters about the town puts in his time as such old chaps do bit of reading at the libraries bit of gossip here and there you know the sort. Last man in the world I should have thought would have been mixed up in an affair of this sort!" "And therefore all the more likely to be!" said Jettison. "Well the other?"
"You'll look after my gal, sir?" he said in an undertone. "She's all I've got. Suppose you do come down; what then?" "I shall jettison the engine and keep afloat by the planes. We've a couple of life buoys, too. But I don't think we shall come down, so make yourself easy, and we'll save your vessel." "There's one man that never forgets a good turn, and that's John Bunce.
On the day previous to that on which Collishaw handed that fifty pounds to Stebbing, a certain Wrychester man drew fifty pounds in gold at his bank. Who do you think he was?" "Who who?" demanded Mitchington. Jettison leaned half-across the desk. "Bryce!" he said in a whisper. "Bryce!" Mitchington sat up in his chair and opened his mouth in sheer astonishment.
"They aren't liable for sixpence. Supposing you were travelling by train, and there was some one else's portmanteau in the carriage, and you flung it out of the window into a river, who do you suppose would have to stand the racket?" "Why, me. But then, sir, this is different." "Not a bit. If we start in to jettison cargo, it means I'm a ruined man.
"What do you mean 'how'?" asked Astro. "I mean how are you going to get the tube out of the ship?" "Why," started Tom, "there's nothing holding that tube assembly to the ship now. We cut all the cleats, remember? We can jettison the whole unit!" "It seems to me," drawled Roger lazily, "that the two great heroes in their mad rush for the Solar Medal have forgotten an unwritten law of space.
He's evidently a deep 'un and so's the other man." "I wanted to ask you that," said Jettison. "Now, exactly who are these two? tell me about them both." "Not so much to tell," answered Mitchington. "Harker's a quiet old chap who lives in a little house over there just off that far corner of this Close. Said to be a retired tradesman, from London. Came here a few years ago, to settle down.
Bryce gave the detective a half-sharp, half-careless look and nodded. "Mr. Jettison will have abundant opportunities for the exercise of his talents!" he observed in his best cynical manner. "I dare say he's found that out already." "Not an easy affair, sir, to be sure," assented Jettison. "Complicated!" "Highly so!" agreed Bryce. He yawned, and glanced at the inspector.
"Yes, and to jettison other people's heavy luggage first," said Morewood. "The duty of a captain, I suppose," murmured the Dean with a smile. "You needn't begin with your best guns," argued Dick, a little hotly. "We can't let Dick appropriate our metaphor to his own purposes," said Marchmont. "As a matter of fact now, had the Crusade much to do with it?"
He took one himself and again glanced at the stranger. "To whom am I speaking, in addition to yourself, Inspector?" he asked. "I'm not going to talk to strangers." "Oh, well!" said Mitchington, a little awkwardly. "Of course, doctor, we've had to get a bit of professional help in these unpleasant matters. This gentleman's Detective-Sergeant Jettison, from the Yard."
In what form did Collishaw pay that fifty pounds to you?" "That's easy answered, sir," said the secretary. "It was in gold. Fifty sovereigns he had 'em in a bit of a bag." Jettison reflected on this information for a moment or two. Then he rose. "Much obliged to you, Mr. Stebbing," he said. "That's something worth knowing.
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