At the angle of the wall he stopped suddenly, and began to whistle "Kathleen Mavourneen." He hadn't rounded off the third bar before the wall door clicked and swung open, and Dollops was beside him.
"Kit bag—quick!" whispered Cleek. "Need an evening suit, and the chap who was going to lend me one went off and forgot all about it. Move sharp, I'm in a hurry."
"Right ho!" said Dollops, and vanished like a blown-out light. In half a minute's time he was back again, and the kit bag with him.
"Here you are, gov'ner. Shall I get out the evenin' clothes, and put the bag back under the hedge, or will you take it with you?"
"I'll take it. There are other things I shall want. Where's Mr. Narkom?"
"Gone back to town, sir—to the Yard. Want him?"
"No, not yet; maybe not to-night at all. Nip off and get yourself something to eat and be back here by nine o'clock at the latest. I shall very likely need you. Cut along!" Then he caught up the kit bag, whisked away with it into the darkness, and five minutes later stood again in the room which he had so recently left.
Accustomed to rapid dressing, he got into his evening clothes in less time than it would have taken most men to unpack and lay them out ready for use when required; and then, taking the half-burnt labels from his pocketbook, carried them to the light and studied them closely. None was so big as the one which he had first inspected nor bore so much printed matter; but fortunately one was a fragment of the exactly opposite side, so that by joining the two together he was able to make out the greater part of it.
Clearly, then, the original label, making allowance for what had been totally destroyed by the flames, must have read: