“Where’s this newspaper editor?” demanded Sidney. “I’m going to kick him, now, at once.”
“You’d better wait till he gets up,” said Gimblet; “at this hour he’s probably still in bed.”
“I’ll soon get him out.”
“Better not take any notice of it. More dignified not to,” urged Sir Gregory, repenting too late his well-meant assurances. “Best treat that sort of idiot with contempt,” he went on. “Chark’s the worst. It’s he that’s put them up to it.”
“Mr. Chark,” said Gimblet, “has a longing to be mixed up in a sensational affair. I saw that yesterday. He ought to know better than to indulge in libel, a lawyer too! I daresay he’s frightened to death, now that he has done it, and has time to think of the consequences.”
“I’ll frighten him,” said the young man.
He calmed down, however, as the detective continued to pour oil on the troubled waters, and was at last persuaded to depart peacefully.
Gimblet wrote out a short description of the missing ladies, together with the promise of a reward to whosoever should bring news of either of them, and this he gave into Sidney’s keeping, charging him to have it inserted in the evening papers, of which the early editions were already appearing in the streets.