"I don't think, Jenkins, until the time comes. Gray matter is scarce these times, and I'm not wasting any of mine on unnecessary speculation," said Raffles Holmes.
At this point the telephone-bell rang and Raffles answered the summons.
"Yes, I'll see Mr. Grouch. Show him up," he said. "It would be mighty interesting reading if some newspaper showed him up," he added, with a grin, as he returned. "By-the-way, Jenkins, I think you'd better go in there and have a half-hour's chat with the talking-machine. I have an idea old man Grouch won't have much to say with a third party present. Listen all you want to, but don't breathe too loud or you'll frighten him away."
I immediately retired, and a moment later Mr. Grouch entered Raffles
Holmes's den.
"Glad to see you," said Raffles Holmes, cordially. "I was wondering how soon you'd be here."
"You expected me, then?" asked the visitor, in surprise.
"Yes," said Holmes. "Next Tuesday is young Wilbraham's twenty-first birthday, and—"
Peering through a crack in the door I could see Grouch stagger.
"You—you know my errand, then?" he gasped out.
"Only roughly, Mr. Grouch," said Holmes, coolly. "Only roughly. But I am very much afraid that I can't do what you want me to. Those bonds are doubtless in some broker's box in a safe-deposit company, and I don't propose to try to borrow them surreptitiously, even temporarily, from an incorporated institution. It is not only a dangerous but a criminal operation. Does your employer know that you have taken them?"