But his day’s work was not done. Hardly had he finished his meal and lit one of the strong, black cigars he favoured, when he was summoned back to Scotland Yard. There waiting for him was Broughton, and with him the tall, heavy-jawed foreman, Harkness.
The Inspector pulled forward two chairs.
‘Sit down, gentlemen,’ he said, when the clerk had introduced his companion, ‘and let me hear your story.’
‘You’ll be surprised to see me so soon again, Mr. Burnley,’ answered Broughton, ‘but, after leaving you, I went back to the office to see if there were any instructions for me, and found our friend here had just turned up. He was asking for the chief, Mr. Avery, but he had gone home. Then he told me his adventures, and as I felt sure Mr. Avery would have sent him to you, I thought my best plan was to bring him along without delay.’
‘And right you were, Mr. Broughton. Now, Mr. Harkness, I would be obliged if you would tell me what happened to you.’
The foreman settled himself comfortably in his chair.
‘Well, sir,’ he began, ‘I think you’re listening to the biggest fool between this and St. Paul’s. I ’ave been done this afternoon, fairly diddled, an’ not once only, but two separate times. ’Owever, I’d better tell you from the beginning.
‘When Mr. Broughton an’ Felix left, I stayed an’ kept an eye on the cask. I got some bits of ’oop iron by way o’ mending it, so that none o’ the boys would wonder why I was ’anging around. I waited the best part of an hour, an’ then Felix came back.
‘“Mr. ’Arkness, I believe?” ’e said.
‘“That’s my name, sir,” I answered.