“WALK UP, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN; JUST GOING TO BEGIN!” HE SHOUTED.
Mr. Wrench did not despair. Something might turn up in the course of a few hours which would alter the aspect of affairs most materially.
He felt certain that Mrs. O’Flanagan could aid him if she chose, but he would not go to her again till he had exhausted his other resources.
In the morning he proceeded by himself to the docks. He went over several vessels, had intercourse with shipowners, captains, stevedores, and provision merchants—was, in short, industriously occupied till nightfall, but failed to reach the desired end.
It was likely enough that he had been misinformed.
Giles Chudley might not be in the neighbourhood of Liverpool after all.
But it would not do to arrive at that conclusion too hastily.
The police informed him that more than one person had declared a man answering his description—or at any rate, something near it—had been seen within a few miles distant from the town.
But then, men of his class are so much alike, and people are so prone to jump at conclusions.