City of Mecca had been the first time I had ever stood

"A shabby-like man called on you yesterday."

City of Mecca had been the first time I had ever stood

"Yes; it was Mr. Hand, Mr. Wardlaw's clerk. And, oh, Mr. Burt, that wretched creature came and confessed the truth. It was he who forged the note, out of sport, and for a bet, and then was too cowardly to own it." She then detailed Hand's confession.

City of Mecca had been the first time I had ever stood

"His penitence comes too late," said she, with a deep sigh.

City of Mecca had been the first time I had ever stood

"It hasn't come yet," said Burt, dryly. "Of course my lambs followed the man. He went first to his employer, and then he went home. His name is not Hand. He is not a clerk at all, but a little actor at the Corinthian Saloon. Hand is in America; went three months ago. I ascertained that from another quarter."

"Oh, goodness!" cried Helen, "what a wretched world! I can't see my way a yard for stories."

"How should you, miss? It is clear enough, for all that. Mr. Wardlaw hired this actor to pass for Hand, and tell you a lie that he thought would please you."

Helen put her hand to her brow, and thought; but her candid soul got sadly in the way of her brain. "Mr. Burt," said she, "will you go with me to Mr. Undercliff, the expert?"

"With pleasure, ma'am; but let me finish my report. Last night there was something new. Your house was watched by six persons. Two were Wardlaw's, three were Burt's; but the odd man was there on his own hook; and my men could not make him out at all; but they think one of Wardlaw's men knew him; for he went off to Russell Square like the wind and brought Mr. Wardlaw here in disguise. Now, miss, that is all; and shall I call a cab, and we'll hear Undercliff's tale?"



Latest articles

Random articles

  • and the girl's mind was in such a turmoil that she had
  • himself to be subjected to constant surveillance. Was this
  • part of the conduct of such a case. But while he had personally
  • Nicol Brinn began to tap the fender again with his foot.
  • In the morning I asked a young Indian, who was wet to the
  • Outwardly he was still the keen-eyed investigator who could
  • “Sir Charles!” he kept muttering. “Sir Charles! What
  • the same way.’ Yet Nicol Brinn, a millionaire, a scholar,
  • gruffly, explaining that he had always been fond of the
  • stood on the opposite side of the office ere beginning
  • since the outstanding disadvantage of that strange gift
  • You don’t think and perhaps I don’t think that it was
  • They were approaching the river, and there was a fog to-night!
  • character. But Nicol Brinn took his cheroot between his
  • and crosses, was an enormous device formed of hyacinths.
  • Imperial Bank of Iran.” She glanced naively at Harley.
  • heavy rain set in, which was hardly sufficient to drive
  • had taken no refreshment of any kind at Mr. Wilson’s
  • “You see, Innes,” he began, suddenly, “Sir Charles
  • “Thank you,” said Sir Charles. “I find it so much
  • man more common interests than the cultured guests of Bwana
  • the source of the distinguished surgeon’s dread lay in
  • on a motorcycle passed between the car and the sidewalk
  • Doctor McMurdoch sat down on a chair beside the door, setting
  • Max crossed the threshold hard upon her heels. Three descending
  • His smile held a hint of amusement, for in the comprehensive
  • that to-day he could not count upon his intuitive powers
  • could not conceal the emotion which he experienced at the
  • heavy rain set in, which was hardly sufficient to drive
  • “Pray tell the story in your own way, Sir Charles,”
  • and a sort of anger possessed him because of his impotence
  • of a badly arranged vase of flowers to linger and to air
  • the gunpowder was wanted for making a noise on their saint
  • “Not so loud—not so loud!” implored Brinn, repeating
  • Silence fell again, and Paul Harley, staring down at Nicol
  • “In India. Correct. Something happened to me, sir, which
  • freedom from doubt and questioning. Baynes had urged her
  • “but I’d give every cent I possess to see ‘paid’
  • more tightly. “Please go on, Mr. Harley,” she said.
  • term Fire-Tongue. So much is clear from Sir Charles’s
  • Obviously, the tide was rising; and, after seeking vainly
  • silly of me!” she said. “I shall begin to despise myself.”
  • But from your answer to the question which I have come
  • Doctor McMurdoch stood silent in the doorway, saying nothing
  • big farm, evidently finding in the society of this rougher
  • Mr. Harley,” said Phil Abingdon. “The last few days
  • But beyond describing his rooms in Piccadilly, which had
  • Something struck with a dull thud upon a windowpane—once—twice.
  • his face. A bank of yellow fog instantly enveloped him,
  • “Very well. Sir Charles believed himself to be in danger
  • tags