“We’re too late, then. What was—what did he get?”
Now the policeman considered he had answered quite enough for his shilling. If he went on, people would think he was an easy fish to catch. So he affected deafness, and looking straight past his eager questioners again repeated his stentorian request to the public generally.
“Oh, pray tell us what he got,” said Harker, in tones of genuine entreaty; “this is his brother, and we’ve only just heard of it.”
The policeman for a moment turned a curious eye on Horace, as if to convince himself of the truth of the story. Then, apparently satisfied, and weary of the whole business, he said,—
“Let off. Will you keep back, please? Stand back. Court’s full.”
Let off. Horace’s heart gave a bound of triumph as he heard the words. Of course he was! Who could even suspect him of such a thing as fraud? Unjustly accused he might be, but Reg’s character was proof against that any day.
Harker shared his friend’s feelings of relief and thankfulness at the good news, but his face was still not without anxiety.
“We had better try to find him,” said he.
“Oh, of course. He’ll probably be back at Shy Street.”
But no one was at Shy Street. The dingy office was deserted and locked, and a little street urchin on the doorstep glowered at them as they peered up the staircase and read the name on the plate.