“That’s the professional detective all over,” thought Hellier, as he watched the departing figure of Freyberger. “They work in one set groove, they have ideas handed down from generation to generation. I was amazed at this man’s perspicuity at first, and now I find him just one of a class. Well, if he doesn’t see much in my idea I do, and I will keep my eyes open, and if I see a chance I will profit by it.”
CHAPTER XXVIII
IF Hellier could only have seen into the consciousness of our friend Freyberger, he would have admitted that the latter, although a professional detective, had an open mind, and was not entirely bound up in self-conceit.
Freyberger, as in duty bound, took a cab and made as fast as a London cab-horse could carry him, through London traffic, towards the Yard. At the Yard the Chief was just getting into his motor-car, when he saw Freyberger he beckoned to him.
“Come with me,” he said, “I am going on a case.”
Freyberger knew what that meant.
Some crime of extra magnitude had just taken place.
When the chief went in person like this, it meant big things.
He got into the tonneau without enthusiasm, for he had so much on his mind that he did not relish the prospect of an additional burden, and the car started.