THE OFFICIAL DEMISE OF TOMMY SMITH
Next morning Mr. Mablethorpe, after a quite unexpectedly serious conversation with Philip, departed upon Boanerges to seek out Uncle Joseph.
Having achieved a comparatively unadventurous journey (if we except a collision with a milk-cart in the Finchley Road), he drew up at Holly Lodge, which looked very much the same as when Philip had left it two days before, save that a large board, newly painted and announcing that "This House" was to be "Let or Sold," projected over the laurel hedge which separated the gravel sweep from the roadway.
Uncle Joseph was at home, and received his visitor in the library.
The owner of Boanerges came to the point at once.
"My name," he said, "is Mablethorpe. I do not suppose that the information will interest you in the least, but it is customary to give it. What is more to the point is the fact that I have found a stray nephew. Have you lost one?"
Uncle Joseph admitted that this was so.
"He appears to have left home," continued Mr. Mablethorpe, "two days ago, owing to a sudden and rather unexpected change in your domestic routine."
"He told you the story, then?"
"Yes."