'Yes,' drawled Kombs, 'it is a devil of a shame that such things are done. But what would you? as we say in France.'
When the journalist had recovered his second wind he pulled himself together somewhat. 'Would you object to telling me how you know these particulars about a man you say you have never seen?'
'I rarely talk about these things,' said Kombs with great composure. 'But as the cultivation of the habit of observation may help you in your profession, and thus in a remote degree benefit me by making your paper less deadly dull, I will tell you. Your first and second fingers are smeared with ink, which shows that you write a great deal. This smeared class embraces two sub-classes, clerks or accountants, and journalists. Clerks have to be neat in their work. The ink smear is slight in their case. Your fingers are badly and carelessly smeared; therefore, you are a journalist. You have an evening paper in your pocket. Anyone might have any evening paper, but yours is a Special Edition, which will not be on the streets for half-an-hour yet. You must have obtained it before you left the office, and to do this you must be on the staff. A book notice is marked with a blue pencil. A journalist always despises every article in his own paper not written by himself; therefore, you wrote the article you have marked, and doubtless are about to send it to the author of the book referred to. Your paper makes a speciality of abusing all books not written by some member of its own staff. That the author is a friend of yours, I merely surmised. It is all a trivial example of ordinary observation.'
'Really, Mr. Kombs, you are the most wonderful man on earth. You are the equal of Gregory, by Jove, you are.'
A frown marred the brow of my friend as he placed his pipe on the sideboard and drew his self-cocking six-shooter.
'Do you mean to insult me, sir?'
'I do not—I—I assure you. You are fit to take charge of Scotland Yard tomorrow ——. I am in earnest, indeed I am, sir.'
'Then heaven help you,' cried Kombs, slowly raising his right arm.
I sprang between them.
'Don't shoot!' I cried. 'You will spoil the carpet. Besides, Sherlaw, don't you see the man means well. He actually thinks it is a compliment!'