_That_ little rat!"

"Oh, he's sharp. I met a man in the train and he told me--"

Mr. Franklin grinned amiably; Hobbs, the butcher, intercepting his eye,
grinned back. It is not difficult to imagine what portion of the
foregoing small talk reached Furneaux subsequently.

Oddly enough, both detectives had missed a brief but illuminating
incident which took place in the Hare and Hounds the previous night,
while Winter was finishing a cigar with Peters, and Furneaux was
bludgeoning Ingerinan into compliance with his wishes.

Elkin's remarkable improvement in health was commented on by Hobbs, and
Siddle took the credit.

"That last mixture has proved beneficial, then?" he said, eying the
horse-dealer closely.

"Top-hole," smirked Elkin. "But it's only fair to say that I've chucked
whiskey, too."

"Did you finish the bottle?"

"Which bottle?"

"Mine, of course."

"Nearly."

"Don't take any more. It was decidedly strong. I'll send a boy early
to-morrow morning with a first-rate tonic, and you might give him any old
medicine bottles you possess. I'm running short."

Elkin hesitated a second or two.

"I'll tell my housekeeper to look 'em up," he said. After the inquest he
communicated this episode to Furneaux as a great joke.

"Queer, isn't it?" he guffawed. "A couple of dozen bottles went back, as
I'm always getting stuff for the gees, but those two weren't among 'em.
You took care of that, eh? When will you have the analysis?"

"It'll be fully a week yet," said the detective. "Government offices are
not run like express trains, and this is a free job, you know. But, be
advised by me. Stick to plain food, and throw physic to the dogs."

Another singular fact, unobserved by the public at large, was that a
policeman, either Robinson or a stranger, patrolled the high-street all
day and all night, while no one outside official circles was aware that
other members of the force watched The Hollies, or were secreted among
the trees on the cliffside, from dusk to dawn.

Next morning, however, there was real cause for talk. Siddle's shop was
closed. Over the letter-box, neatly printed, was gummed a notice:

"Called away on business. Will open for one hour after arrival of 7 p. m.
train. T. S."

Everyone who passed stopped to read. Even Mr. Franklin joined Furneaux
and Peters in a stroll across the road to have a look.

"I want you a minute," said the big man suddenly to Furneaux. There was
that in his tone whi