"Please, sir, an urgent call for you."
"One moment," said Oppenshaw. Out he went.
He was back in less than two minutes.
"I have his address," said he.
"Thank goodness!" said Brownlow.
"H'm," said Oppenshaw; "but there's not good news with it. He's staying at the Rose Hotel, Upton-on-Hill, and he's been getting into trouble of some sort. It was Mudd who 'phoned, and he seemed half off his head; said he didn't like to go into details over the telephone, but wanted me to come down to arrange matters. I told him it was quite impossible to-day; then he seemed to collapse and cut me off."
"What am I to do?"
"Well, there's only two things to be done: tell this gentleman that Mr. Pettigrew's mind is affected, or take him down there on the chance that this shock may have restored Mr. Pettigrew."
"I can't tell him Mr. Pettigrew's mind is affected," said Brownlow. "I'd sooner do anything than that. I'd sooner take him down there on the chance of his being better—perhaps even if he's not, the sight of me and Mr. Tidd might recall him to himself."