'It is the same thing, Monsieur Hale.'
'Well, of all the conceited—' and the good Hale could get no further.
'If you wish my assistance, it is yours.'
'Very good. Not to put too fine a point upon it, I do.'
'In that case, my dear Podgers, you will return to the residence of our friend Summertrees, and get together for me in a bundle all of yesterday's morning and evening papers, that were delivered to the house. Can you do that, or are they mixed up in a heap in the coal cellar?'
'I can do it, sir. I have instructions to place each day's papers in a pile by itself in case they should be wanted again. There is always one week's supply in the cellar, and we sell the papers of the week before to the rag men.'
'Excellent. Well, take the risk of abstracting one day's journals, and have them ready for me. I will call upon you at half-past three o'clock exactly, and then I want you to take me upstairs to the clerk's bedroom in the third story, which I suppose is not locked during the daytime?'
'No, sir, it is not.'
With this the patient Podgers took his departure. Spenser Hale rose when his assistant left.
'Anything further I can do?' he asked.