“I should like to know how you were employed when I saw you last,” said I. But here Sergeant Porter interposed: “Better leave explanations till later, Sir. You’ve got a back gate, I think.”
“Yes,” said one of the “painters.” “At the bottom of the garden. It opens on an alley that leads into the next road—Chilton-road.”
“Can we get into the garden through the studio?” the Sergeant asked; and on my answering in the affirmative, he requested permission to inspect the rear premises. I conducted both men to the back door and let them out into the garden, where they passed out at the back gate to reconnoitre the alley. In a minute or two they returned; and they had hardly re-entered the studio when another knock at the door announced more visitors. They turned out to be Thorndyke and Superintendent Miller: of whom the latter inquired of the senior painter:
“Is everything in going order, Jenks?”
“Yes, Sir,” was the reply. “The man is there all right. Dr. Gray saw him; but I should mention, Sir, that he doesn’t think it’s the right man.”
“The devil he doesn’t!” exclaimed Miller, looking at me uneasily, and then glancing at Thorndyke.
“That man isn’t Morris,” said I. “He is that red-nosed man whom I told you about. You remember.”
“I remember,” Thorndyke replied calmly. “Well, I suppose we shall have to content ourselves with the red-nosed man;” upon which ex-Sergeant Barber’s countenance became wreathed in smiles and the Superintendent looked relieved.
“Are all the arrangements complete, Sergeant?” Miller inquired, turning to Sergeant Porter.
“Yes, sir,” the latter replied. “Inspector Follett has got some local men, who know the neighbourhood well, posted in the rear watching the back garden, and there are some uniformed men waiting round both the corners to stop him, in case he slips past us. Everything is ready, sir.”