disappearance,
though it could hardly have been overlooked. But it was useless to
speculate without facts. I should be seeing Thorndyke in the course of
the next few days, and, undoubtedly, if the discovery had any bearing
upon the disappearance of John Bellingham, I should hear of it. With
such a reflection I rose from the table, and, adopting the advice
contained in the spurious Johnsonian quotation, proceeded to "take a
walk in Fleet Street" before settling down for the evening.

CHAPTER VI

SIDELIGHTS

The association of coal with potatoes is one upon which I have
frequently speculated, without arriving at any more satisfactory
explanation than that both products are of the earth, earthy. Of the
connection itself Barnard's practise furnished several instances
besides Mrs. Jablett's establishment in Fleur-de-Lys Court, one of
which was a dark and mysterious cavern a foot below the level of the
street, that burrowed under an ancient house on the west side of Fetter
Lane--a crinkly, timber house of the three-decker type that leaned back
drunkenly from the road as if about to sit down in its own back yard.

Passing this repository of the associated products about ten o'clock in
the morning, I perceived in the shadows of the cavern no less a person
than Miss Oman. She saw me at the same moment, and beckoned
peremptorily with a hand that held a large Spanish onion. I approached
with a deferential smile.

"What a magnificent onion, Miss Oman! and how generous of you to offer
it to me----"

"I wasn't offering it to you. But there! Isn't it just like a
man-----"

"Isn't what just like a man?" I interrupted. "If you mean the
onion----"

"I don't!" she snapped; "and I wish you wouldn't talk such a parcel of
nonsense. A grown man and a member of a serious profession, too! You
ought to know better."

"I suppose I ought," I said reflectively. And she continued:

"I called in at the surgery just now."

"To see me?"

"What else should I come for? Do you suppose that I called to consult
the bottle-boy?"

"Certainly not, Miss Oman. So you find the lady doctor no use, after
all?"

Miss Oman gnashed her teeth at me (and very fine teeth they were too).

"I called," she said majestically, "on behalf of Miss Bellingham."

My facetiousness evaporated instantly. "I hope Miss Bellingham is not
ill," I said with a sudden anxiety that elicited a sardonic smile from
Miss Oman.

"No," was the reply,