tendent
joined him, he found him sitting in the limousine and staring fixedly at
his toes.
"My dear Cleek, did you find anything?" he queried as he took a seat
beside him, and the motor swung out into the road and whizzed away. "Of
course, I know you've no more idea of going to Liverpool than you have
of taking a pot-shot at the moon; but there's something on your mind. I
know the signs, Cleek. What is it?"
The response to this was rather startling.
"Mr. Narkom," said Cleek, answering one question with another, "what's
the best thing to make powdered bismuth stick: lard, cold cream, or
cocoa butter?"
III
If punctuality is a virtue, then Mr. Maurice Van Nant deserved to go on
record as one of the most virtuous men in existence. For the little
Dutch clock in Captain Morrison's drawing-room had barely begun to
strike seven on the following Thursday evening when he put in an
appearance there, and found the captain and his daughter anxiously
awaiting him. But, as virtue is, on most excellent authority, its own
reward, he had to be satisfied with the possession of it, since neither
Narkom nor Cleek was there to meet him.
But the reason for this defection was made manifest when Miss Morrison
placed before him a telegram which had arrived some ten minutes earlier
and read as follows: "Unavoidably delayed. Be with you at nine-thirty.
Ask Mr. Van Nant to wait. Great and welcome piece of news for him,
Narkom."
Van Nant smiled.
"Great and welcome news," he repeated. "Then Mr. Headland must have
found something in the nature of a clue in Ireland, captain, though
what he could find there I can't imagine. Frankly, I thought him a
stupid sort of fellow, but if he has managed to find a clue to poor
George's whereabouts over in Ireland, he must be sharper than I
believed. Well, we shall know about that at half-past nine, when Mr.
Narkom comes. I hope nothing will happen to make him disappoint us
again."
Nothing did. Promptly at the hour appointed the red limousine whizzed up
to the door, and Mr. Narkom made his appearance. But, contrary to the
expectations of the three occupants of the little drawing-room, he was
quite alone.
"So sorry I couldn't come earlier," he said, as he came in, looking and
acting like the bearer of great good news; "but you will appreciate the
delay when I tell you what caused it. What's that, Mr. Van Nant?
Headland? No, he's not with me. As a matter of fact, I've dispensed with
his ser
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