His services had been frequently called into requisition to hunt up evidence for his superiors. Mr. Slingsby had no objection to push his inquiries in channels where his superiors did not choose to venture. He was a sort of sleuth hound, who would stoop to any mean artifices to obtain the desired information.
Mr. Wrench, upon his return home, sent for Slingsby without further ado.
“Well,” said the last-named, when he was closeted with his superior, “Naggs said you wanted to see me.”
“Naggs was right—sit down,” returned Mr. Wrench.
“Anything on hand? Any fresh business?” inquired Slingsby.
“Yes; if you will have a little patience you shall hear.”
“I’m all attention, sir.”
“Very well. In the first place there is a young man named Gatliffe, who is by trade an engineer. He resides at Wood Green.”
“I can go there, and soon ascertain about him.”
“Don’t you be so fast. I don’t want you to go to Wood Green. To do so would be an act of the greatest imprudence. Besides, I have already been there myself. What I want you to do is to watch him as he leaves his work. He is foreman to an engineer in the Euston-road. I will give you the name of the firm and the number of the house. He generally leaves the works at six in the evening, but sometimes he stops till seven or eight, and indeed on special occasions even later than that; but, as a rule, you will be able to make sure of him between six and seven, or from that to eight. You understand me thus far.”