“And it is the something which you found in the pocket that you wish to restore, I take it?” said the inspector quickly.
“Yes, and I shall have no peace until it is safely in Mr. Bradgate’s possession,” said Bertha, with a distressful pant in her breath.
The inspector frowned. He understood to the full the difficulties of Bertha’s position, and he was not disposed to be lenient to the man who had brought the trouble about.
“If the thing found in the coat were so valuable, why did not the man come to enquire for it, also for his coat?” he asked grimly.
“That is what has always puzzled me so greatly until the other Sunday evening, when I read the letter which Mrs. Fricker, of Halifax, wrote to her son; but since then I have thought that most likely Mr. Bradgate forgot that he had had his coat with him in the boat at all, in which case, although he might search for it in other directions, he would not think of approaching me on the subject,” answered Bertha, and then she poured into the ears of the sympathetic inspector the story of how Edgar Bradgate had emptied his pockets to reward her for helping him, and how Mrs. Saunders had kept the money, refusing to let her know the name or abode of the man with whom she so earnestly wished to communicate.
“The old lady was afraid of being bowled out, I expect,” said the inspector, with a laugh, and then he asked Bertha to let him have an hour in which to consider what was best to be done.
“If you have any business in the town, go and do that and be back here within the hour, by which time I may be able to tell you whether it is possible for you to be sent to railhead, and how long the journey will take,” he said.
“Thank you, very much,” replied Bertha, as she rose from the wooden bench on which she had been sitting, and then she said nervously, “You will not let anyone know what I have told you about the something being of value? Mrs. Ellis says that she would never dare to be left alone if anyone knew, and that kind of worry is so bad for her.”
“Your confidence is quite safe with me, have no fear. The police have to keep almost as many secrets as a lawyer, and to their credit be it said they mostly do keep them,” he answered, as he bowed her out of the bare room and reminded her to be back within an hour.
She had not gone the length of two blocks, when she met Bill Humphries coming to meet her with a very bothered look on his face, and at sight of her he cried out in great concern, “Here is a pretty business—a blockhead of a fellow hauling rails ran into me and smashed one of my hind wheels, and I can’t get the wagon back to Pentland Broads to-day! Whatever shall I do with you?”