“Dear Ingleton,—Oddly enough I stumbled yesterday across the very piece of paper I spoke to you of. Here it is for what it was worth.”
Roger eagerly opened the yellow sheet. It announced a performance of Hamlet at Folkestone by a celebrated company of stars under the direction of a Monsieur Callot. Among the actors was a Mr John Rogers, who took the part of the ghost in the first act. Further down was mentioned a Miss Callot, who acted the part of a page. And the bill announced that after the performance in Folkestone the company would perform for two nights only in Boulogne. More important, however, than any other particular was a footnote that Monsieur Callot was “happy to receive pupils for instruction in the dramatic art at his address, 2 Long Street, London, W. Terms moderate. Singing and dancing taught by Madame Callot.”
Here at last seemed a clue. The pulses of the two friends quickened as they read and re-read the time-worn document.
“The boat sails in two hours,” said Mr Armstrong, “I must leave you in town. Brandram would not telegraph for me like this unless he meant it.”
“I suppose it means my bro— Ratman, has turned up again. If so, Armstrong—”
“Well?” inquired the tutor, digging his glass deep into his eye.
Roger said nothing.
On the following afternoon Mr Armstrong had a pleasant game of Association football with Tom on the Maxfield lawn, and Miss Jill, who volunteered as umpire, gave every point in favour of the tutor.
Just about the time when he kicked his final goal, Roger Ingleton, minor, in London arrived at the dreary conclusion, after an hour’s painful study of directories and maps, that there was no such street as Long Street, London, W.