Cleek of Scotland Yard: Detective StoriesHanshew, Thomas W.
General
Cleek of Scotland Yard: Detective Stories
Hanshew, Thomas W.
Cleek, Hamilton (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories
"But the other animal? But Chocolate Maid? How could she have got
back to the stable, then? She couldn't have found her way back alone
after Farrow was assaulted--at least, she could, of course, but
not in the condition she was in when found next morning. She had no
harness of any sort upon her. Her saddle was on its peg. She was in
her box--tied up, b'gad! and the door of the box was closed and
bolted; so that if by any chance----Hullo! I say! What on earth are
you smiling in that queer way for? Hang it, man! do you believe
that I don't know what I'm talking about?"
"Oh, yes, Major. It isn't that kind of a smile. I have just
discovered that four and four make eight when you add them up
properly; and the smile is one of consequent satisfaction. A last
question, please. At what time in the morning was Farrow found
lying unconscious upon the moor?"
"Somewhere between six and seven o'clock. Why?"----
"Oh, nothing in particular. Who found him? Captain MacTavish?"
"No. Maggie McFarland. She was just coming back from milking
when----Hang it, man! I wish you wouldn't smile all up one side of
your face in that confounded manner. It makes me think that you
must have something up your sleeve."
"Well, if I have, Major, suppose you drive me over to the stables
and give me a chance to take it out?" suggested Cleek, serenely. "A
little 'poking about' sometimes does wonders, and a half hour in
Highland Lassie's quarters may pick the puzzle to pieces a great deal
sooner than you'd believe. Or, stop! Perhaps, on second thought, it
will be better for you and her ladyship to go on ahead, as I shall
want to have a look at Tom Farrow's injuries as well, so it will be
best to have everything prepared in advance, in order to save time.
No doubt Mr. Narkom and I can get a conveyance of some sort here.
At any rate--h'm! it is now a quarter to three, I see--at any
rate, you may certainly expect us at quarter-past five. You and
her ladyship may go back quite openly, Major. There will be no
need to attempt to throw dust in Sir Gregory Dawson-Blake's eyes
any longer by keeping the disappearance of the animal a secret.
If he's had a hand in her spiriting away, he knows, of course, that
she's gone; but if he hasn't--oh, well, I fancy I know who did, and
that she will be in the running on Derby Day after all. A few
minutes in Highland Lassie's stable will settle that, I feel sure.
Your ladyship, my compliments. Major, good afternoon. I hope if
night overtakes us before we get at the bottom of the thing you can
manage to put us up at the Abbey until to-morrow that we may be
on the spot to the last?"
"With pleasure, Mr. Cleek," said Lady Mary; and bowed him out of the
room.
CHAPTER XIII
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account