Chapter Ten.
Detective Doings.
For a considerable time the boy prowled about the house of Mr Spivin in the hope of seeing David Laidlaw go out or in; but our Scot did not appear. At last a servant-girl came to the open door with a broom in her hand to survey the aspect of things in general. Tommy walked smartly up to her, despite the stern gaze of a suspicious policeman on the opposite side of the street.
“My sweet gal,” he said affably touching his cap, “is Capting Laidlaw within?”
“There’s no Captain Laidlaw here,” answered the girl sharply; “there was a Daivid Laidlaw, but—”
“Da-a-a-vid, my dear, not Daivid. The gen’l’m’n hisself told me, and surely ’e knows ’ow to prenounce ’is own name best.”
“You’ve a deal of cheek, boy—anyway, Laidlaw ’as bin took up, an’ ’e’s now in prison.”
The sudden look of consternation on the boy’s face caused the girl to laugh.