The Complete Works of Arthur Morrison (Illustrated). Arthur Morrison

weeds hailing another hansom a little way behind. He recognized the figure again, and said to the driver: ‘Drive fast to Palmer’s Tourist Office, but keep your eye on that cab behind, and tell me presently if it is following us.’

      The cabman drove off, and after passing one or two turnings, opened the lid above Hewitt’s head, and said: ‘That there other keb is a-follerin’ us, sir, an’ keepin’ about even distance all along.’

      ‘All right; that’s what I wanted to know. Palmer’s now.’ At Palmer’s the clerk who had attended to Laker remembered him very well and described him. He also remembered the wallet, and thought he remembered the umbrella — was practically sure of it, in fact, upon reflection. He had no record of the name given, but remembered it distinctly to be Laker. As a matter of fact, names were never asked in such a transaction, but in this case Laker appeared to be ignorant of the usual procedure, as well as in a great hurry, and asked for the ticket and gave his name all in one breath, probably assuming that the name would be required.

      Hewitt got back to his cab, and started for Charing Cross. The cabman once more lifted the lid and informed him that the hansom with the veiled woman in it was again following, having waited while Hewitt had visited Palmer’s. At Charing Cross Hewitt discharged his cab and walked straight to the lost property office. The man in charge knew him very well, for his business had carried him there frequently before.

      ‘I fancy an umbrella was lost in the station yesterday,’ Hewitt said. ‘It was a new umbrella, silk, with a gnarled gorse-root handle and two silver bands, something like this sketch. There was a monogram on the lower band —“C. W. L.” were the letters. Has it been brought here?’

      ‘There was two or three yesterday,’ the man said; ‘let’s see.’ He took the sketch and retired to a corner of his room. ‘Oh, yes — here it is, I think; isn’t this it? Do you claim it?’ ‘Well, not exactly that, but I think I’ll take a look at it, if you’ll let me. By the way, I see it’s rolled up. Was it found like that?’

      ‘No; the chap rolled it up what found it — porter he was. It’s a fad of his, rolling up umbrellas close and neat, and he’s rather proud of it. He often looks as though he’d like to take a man’s umbrella away and roll it up for him when it’s a bit clumsy done. Rum fad, eh?’

      ‘Yes; everybody has his little fad, though. Where was this found — close by here?’

      ‘Yes, sir; just there, almost opposite this window, in the little corner.’

      ‘About two o’clock?’

      ‘Ah, about that time, more or less.’

      Hewitt took the umbrella up, unfastened the band, and shook the silk out loose. Then he opened it, and as he did so a small scrap of paper fell from inside it. Hewitt pounced on it like lightning. Then, after examining the umbrella thoroughly, inside and out, he handed it back to the man, who had not observed the incident of the scrap of paper.

      ‘That will do, thanks,’ he said. ‘I only wanted to take a peep at it — just a small matter connected with a little case of mine. Good-morning.’

      He turned suddenly and saw, gazing at him with a terrified expression from a door behind, the face of the woman who had followed him in the cab. The veil was lifted, and he caught but a mere glance of the face ere it was suddenly withdrawn. He stood for a moment to allow the woman time to retreat, and then left the station and walked toward his office, close by.

      Scarcely thirty yards along the Strand he met Plummer. ‘I’m going to make some much closer inquiries all down the line as far as Dover,’ Plummer said. ‘They wire from Calais that they have no clue as yet, and I mean to make quite sure, if I can, that Laker hasn’t quietly slipped off the line somewhere between here and Dover. There’s one very peculiar thing,’ Plummer added confidentially. ‘Did you see the two women who were waiting to see a member of the firm at Liddle, Neal & Liddle’s?’

      ‘Yes. Laker’s mother and his fiancée, I was told.’

      ‘That’s right. Well, do you know that girl — Shaw her name is — has been shadowing me ever since I left the Bank. Of course I spotted it from the beginning — these amateurs don’t know how to follow anybody — and, as a matter of fact, she’s just inside that jeweller’s shop door behind me now, pretending to look at the things in the window. But it’s odd, isn’t it?’

      ‘Well,’ Hewitt replied, ‘of course it’s not a thing to be neglected. If you’ll look very carefully at the corner of Villiers Street, without appearing to stare, I think you will possibly observe some signs of Laker’s mother. She’s shadowing me.’

      Plummer looked casually in the direction indicated, and then immediately turned his eyes in another direction.

      ‘I see her,’ he said; ‘she’s just taking a look round the corner. That’s a thing not to be be ignored. Of course, the Lakers’ house is being watched — we set a man on it at once, yesterday. But I’ll put some one on now to watch Miss Shaw’s place too. I’ll telephone through to Liddle’s — probably they’ll be able to say where it is. And the women themselves must be watched, too. As a matter of fact, I had a notion that Laker wasn’t alone in it. And it’s just possible, you know, that he has sent an accomplice off with his tourist ticket to lead us a dance while he looks after himself in another direction. Have you done anything?’

      ‘Well,’ Hewitt replied, with a faint reproduction of the secretive smile with which Plummer had met an inquiry of his earlier in the morning, ‘I’ve been to the station here, and I’ve found Laker’s umbrella in the lost property office.’

      ‘Oh! Then probably he has gone. I’ll bear that in mind, and perhaps have a word with the lost property man.’

      Plummer made for the station and Hewitt for his office. He mounted the stairs and reached his door just as I myself, who had been disappointed in not finding him in, was leaving. I had called with the idea of taking Hewitt to lunch with me at my club, but he declined lunch. ‘I have an important case in hand,’ he said. ‘Look here, Brett. See this scrap of paper. You know the types of the different newspapers — which is this?’

      He handed me a small piece of paper. It was part of a cutting containing an advertisement, which had been torn in half.

      ‘I think,’ I said, ‘this is from the Daily Chronicle, judging by the paper. It is plainly from the “agony column”, but all the papers use pretty much the same type for these advertisements, except the Times. If it were not torn I could tell you at once, because the Chronicle columns are rather narrow.’

      ‘Never mind — I’ll send for them all.’ He rang, and sent Kerrett for a copy of each morning paper of the previous day. Then he took from a large wardrobe cupboard a decent but well-worn and rather roughened tall hat. Also a coat a little worn and shiny on the collar. He exchanged these for his own hat and coat, and then substituted an old necktie for his own clean white one, and encased his legs in mud-spotted leggings. This done, he produced a very large and thick pocket-book, fastened by a broad elastic band, and said, ‘Well, what do you think of this? Will it do for Queen’s taxes, or sanitary inspection, or the gas, or the water-supply?’

      ‘Very well indeed, I should say,’ I replied. ‘What’s the case?’

      ‘Oh, I’ll tell you all about that when it’s over — no time now. Oh, here you are, Kerrett. By the bye, Kerrett, I’m going out presently by the back way. Wait for about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after I am gone, and then just go across the road and speak to that lady in black, with the veil, who is waiting in that little foot-passage opposite. Say Mr Martin Hewitt sends his compliments, and he advises her not to wait, as he has already left his office by another door, and has been gone some little time. That’s all; it would be a pity to keep the poor woman waiting all day for nothing. Now the papers. Daily News, Standard, Telegraph, Chronicle— yes, here it is, in