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Updated: May 25, 2025
I don't see so far into all this, myself, but Markledew's the sort of chap who can look through three brick walls and see a mole at work in whatever's behind the third, and he'll see something in what I tell him, and I'll do the telling as soon as he comes down tomorrow morning." Markledew listened to Triffitt's story next day in his usual rapt silence.
But Markledew had become somewhat previous he had insisted that Triffitt should talk to the Scotland Yard folk at this early in Triffitt's view, much too early stage of the proceedings. And Triffitt had felt all the time he was talking that he was only telling the high official and the apathetic Davidge something that they already knew.
In this love affair he was joined by his friend, to whom Triffitt's young lady had introduced her great friend, with whom Carver had promptly become infatuated.
"Everybody's reading it out there in the streets," he said. "It's extraordinary, now, how these affairs seem to fascinate people. Yes it's all there. That is, of course, as far as it's gone." "How did the paper people come to know all this?" asked Peggie, glancing rapidly over Triffitt's leaded lines. "I suppose they got it from the police," replied Mr. Tertius.
The chase had come to an end for that moment, at any rate. Boldly, openly, with absolute nonchalance, Burchill walked into a brilliantly-lighted entrance of the Herapath Flats! In the course of Triffitt's brief and fairly glorious journalistic career, he had enjoyed and suffered a few startling experiences.
He beckoned knowingly to a waitress, and looked at her narrowly when she came. "Got such a thing as a muffin?" he asked. "Muffins, sir yes, sir," replied the waitress, "Fresh muffins." "Pick me out a nice, plump, newly killed muffin" commanded Triffitt's companion.
I shall want value." Carver laughed. Triffitt's sudden caution amused him. "I reckon people have to buy pigs in pokes in dealing with this sort of thing, Triff," he said. "But whether the chap's information's good for much or not, I'm certain it's genuine. Well, come round here again at six-thirty."
He took Triffitt's arm firmly in his, led him up the stairs, in at the doors. The hall-porter came forward. "Take me up," said Davidge, "to Mrs. Engledew's flat."
You're curious to know why I'm coming? All right keep your curiosity warm till I come I'll satisfy it. Tonight, mind, young man seven, sharp!" Then he gave Triffitt's arm a squeeze and winked an eye at him, and at once set off in one direction, while the reporter, mystified and inquisitive, turned in another.
Now," he continued, when he had gently but firmly assisted Trixie into the cab, said a word or two to Carver, taken Triffitt's arm, and led him across the street, "now we'll talk a bit, quietly. So he's gone in there, has he, Mr. Triffitt? Just so. Alone, now?" "Quite alone," replied Triffitt. "What's it all about what does it mean? You seem remarkably cool about it!"
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