“Undoubtedly it is,” Thorndyke admitted, “but we haven’t a particle of evidence that this man has any connection with the parcel or with us. He may have been waiting there to meet a friend.”
“He may, of course,” said I, “but seeing that he ran off like a lamp-lighter on both the occasions when I appeared on the scene, I should suspect that he was there for no good. And I strongly suspect him of having some connection with this precious parcel.”
“So do I,” said Thorndyke. “As a matter of fact, I have once or twice, lately, met a man answering to your description, loitering about King’s Bench Walk in the evening. But I think it much better not to appear to notice him. Let himself think himself unobserved and presently he will do something definite that will enable us to take action. And remember that the more thoroughly he commits himself the more valuable his conduct will be as indirect evidence on certain other matters.”
I was amused at the way in which Thorndyke sank all considerations of personal safety in the single purpose of pursuing his investigations to a successful issue. He was the typical enthusiast. The possibility that this unknown person might shoot at him from some ambush, he would, I suspected, have welcomed as offering the chance to seize the aggressor and compel him to disclose his motives. Also, I had a shrewd suspicion that he knew or guessed who the man was and was anxious to avoid alarming him.
“Well,” he said when he had replaced the pistol and the empty jar in the box and closed the latter, “I think we have finished for the present. The further examination of these interesting trifles can be postponed until to-morrow. Shall we go downstairs and talk over the news?”
“It is getting rather late,” said I, “but there is time for a little chat, though, as to news, they will have to come from you, for I have nothing to tell.”
We went down to the sitting room where, when he had locked up the box, we took each an armchair and filled our pipes.
“So you have no news of any kind?” said he.
“No; excepting that the Hilborough Square household has been broken up and the inmates scattered into various flats.”
“Then the house is now empty?” said he, with an appearance of some interest.