I was up to my eyes in work. But I knew
you wouldn't send unless you really wanted me, and when _you_ do
that----"

He stopped speaking and let the rest of the sentence go by default. But
Cleek had seen, and Cleek _knew_. The friendliness in their two pairs of
eyes deepened to a fellowship which is rare--and good to see.

"I know, old chap. But we mustn't go wandering down those particular
primrose paths just now. You're a bully old boy, and I'd back you
against every other man in the kingdom. And you've been a sort of a
guardian angel and a blithering idiot all rolled into one! And that's a
combination which I for one, have strong leanings for!... Now, then,
what about it?"

What, indeed! He swung around in his tracks, hands out-thrown, and
surveyed the Superintendent with tilted head and narrowed eyes. "Any
ideas, eh?"

"Not a single, at the moment. Have you?"

"Oh--several. But they're too uncertain at present for utterance.
There's one thing I do know: That if I could find out certain items that
went to the laundry from this household last week I'd know a great deal
more than I do now. And I'd be able to nail--someone--with a good share
in this beastly business. Also.... You saw Dollops, of course?"

"Yes. Young beggar!--he was on tenterhooks. Afraid some ghostly lady had
caught you last night and hugged you to death, or some such rubbish.
Until I assured him that your biceps were equal to all the ghosts in the
world. Yes, I saw Dollops, all right. And he said he'd got work to do
for you, or something. Some constable had called with a note early in
the morning...."

Cleek looked up quickly from a survey of the window-sill.

"Yes--yes. Had he discovered what I asked him to?"

There was a sort of dumb tolerance in the Superintendent's unimaginative
countenance. He shrugged his shoulders off-handedly.

"My dear chap," he responded, "here's his identical message, only I
can't imitate his inimitable accent. 'Tell the Guv'ner, sir, as that
there "Crahn and Anchor" wot he wants ter know abaht is an inmate of the
post-office!...' Now, if you can make any sense out of that, Cleek...."

"Deland, my dear chap, Deland, I beg of you!" interposed Cleek hastily,
whirling about with upraised hands. "Not a soul in the place knows who I
really am. Even Highland fastnesses, you know, have their leaking
spots--and I'll show you one of 'em by-and-by that'll make you sit
up!... But he _did_ get it, the young beggar! Well, we