THE TORN LABELS
Penteney strode forward and picked up the telegram; a moment later he passed it over to Hetherwick.
"That's most unfortunate!" he exclaimed. "And unexpected, too! Of course, the fellow's slipped off to the Continent."
Matherfield looked over Hetherwick's shoulder and read the message.
"Followed him down here last night. Put up at same hotel, but he slipped me and got clear away early this morning. Returning now."
"You should have employed two men, gentlemen," said Matherfield. "One's not enough—in a case of that sort. But it's as I said before—this man should have been given into custody at once. However——"
He got up from his chair, as if there was no more to be said, and moved towards the door. But half-way across the room he paused.
"You'll let me know if anybody comes forward about that reward?" he suggested. "It's more of a police matter, you know."
The two partners, who were obviously much annoyed by the telegram, nodded.
"We shall let you know—at once," answered Blenkinsop. "Of course, you'll regard all we've told you as strictly confidential?"