I indicated a chair but our visitor shook his head.
"Got to be tooting off in a moment," he continued. "I have just come from the old man. He's in a nursing home round the corner."
"What, Mr. Thomson?" I exclaimed.
The young man assented, although at the mention of the name he winced.
"They nearly laid him out last night in Lansdowne Passage," he announced. "Fortunately, I wasn't far away. Number 100, John Street. He'd like you there in a quarter of an hour, Mr. Lister."
"But who laid him out?" I asked. "Is he seriously hurt?"
Leonard intervened, holding out a newspaper.
"There's an account here!" he exclaimed. "'Murderous assault in Lansdowne Passage.' They say the victim, name unknown, is in a precarious condition."
"Was that really Mr. Thomson?" Rose demanded, in a shocked tone.
"Less said, less trouble," the young man replied, embracing us all in a common farewell salute. "So long."