“Quite alone,” replied Triffitt. “What’s it all about—what does it mean? You seem remarkably cool about it!”
“I shouldn’t be much use in my trade if I didn’t keep cool, Mr. Triffitt,” answered Davidge. “You see, I know a bit—perhaps a good deal—of what’s going on—or what’s going to go on, presently. So will you. I’ll take you in there.”
“There? Where?” demanded Triffitt.
“Where he’s gone,” said Davidge. “Where—if I’m not mistaken—that chap’s going.”
He pointed to a man who had come quickly round the corner from the direction of the High Street, a middle-sized, apparently well-dressed man, who hurried up the broad steps and disappeared within the glass-panelled doors.
“That’s another of ’em,” observed Davidge. “And I’m a Dutchman if this taxi-cab doesn’t hold t’other two. You’ll recognize them, easy.”
Triffitt gaped with astonishment as he saw Professor Cox-Raythwaite and Selwood descend from the taxi-cab, pass up the steps, and disappear.
“Talk of mysteries!” he said. “This——”
Davidge pulled out an old-fashioned watch.
“Nine o’clock,” he remarked. “Come on—we’ll go in. Now, then, Mr. Triffitt,” he continued, pressing his companion’s arm, “let me give you a tip. You mayn’t know that I’m a Yorkshireman—I am! We’ve a good old proverb—it’s often cast up against us: ‘Hear all—say naught!’ You’ll see me act on it tonight—act on it yourself. And—a word in your ear!—you’re going to have the biggest surprise you ever had in your life—and so’s a certain somebody else that we shall see in five minutes! Come on!”