“Better and better, Mrs. Hogarth,” said Anthony. “You’re a veritable ‘Treasure-Trove’ of information. Let’s hear it.”
“Well, sir, as she was a-finishing the conversation she was having, I’m almost sure I overheard her say ‘Good-bye, Emma!’”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hogarth. Nothing more?”
“No sir, I couldn’t remember anything else.”
“I needn’t trouble you any more, then. You have helped me considerably. Come along, Bill.” We bowed ourselves out, personally conducted by the postmistress—a beaming postmistress now—and started homeward.
“Well, Bill, things are plainer now with a vengeance,” said Anthony decisively.... “I think if I put these facts before Baddeley he will take action ... if necessary the call should be easy to trace ... then Webb can be taken comfortably.”
“The Spider?” I queried.
He assented. “They call him ‘Spider’ as much for his physical as for the name association,” he continued. “I remember seeing his photo when he was tried and sentenced—he has long thin arms and long thin legs—with smallish feet.”
“What was the ’phone message?” I asked.
“That she had the pearls, laddie! She has been planted there to get them ... the ‘Spider’ flies high ... or shall we say he spins high ... forged references doubtless ... she waited three years for her chance. Yesterday it came. Her ’phone message to the ‘Spider’ was ‘Success’ with a capital ‘S,’ William! Best part of the three years he’s been in prison.”