“Bring his book,” said the manager.
I did so, and we examined it together. The last page had not been added up, and two of the lines had not been filled out with the amounts in the money column. Oddly enough, when the two cancelled cheques were looked at they were found to amount to £21.
“We must go thoroughly into this,” said the manager. “It looks worse and worse. What’s this?”
It was a torn piece of paper between two of the leaves of the book, part of a memorandum in McCrane’s handwriting. It read thus:
(A scrap of paper is illustrated here.)
“What do you make of that?” asked the manager. A light dawned on me.
“I wonder if it means Euston, 1:30? Perhaps he’s going by that train.”
The manager looked at me, then at the clock, and then went to his desk and took up a Bradshaw.
“1:30 is the train for Rugby, Lancaster, Fleetwood. Samuels!”
“Sir,” said I.