"Well, then," I said, rather testily, "if Orkins didn't sell you out on the comet business, who the devil did?"
"I've no idea," said Henry.
"I think it is pretty certain that he also tipped off the Daily Recorder about your latest discovery, and got well paid for it."
"Even so," said Henry, "these suppositions on your part can have no possible connection with his leaving so abruptly."
"I've got a notion about that too," I said. "Supposing that he did sell you out, in both instances, and was assured that his tips would be treated confidentially, then he must have got scared when McGinity turned up."
"Scared about what?" asked Henry.
"Well, after what happened to the Daily Recorder reporter last night, and Orkins must have known about it—you'd be astonished how quickly news travels among the servants—my idea is that he was afraid McGinity, in reprisal, would betray his duplicity. So he got away as quickly as possible to save his face. But it was a foolish thing to do."
"Foolish?"
"Yes; for newspapers never, under any consideration, betray their source of news information. I doubt if McGinity himself knew where the tips came from. He was simply assigned by his City Editor to get the stories, and Orkins did not figure in them at all as far as he was concerned."
"At any rate," said Henry, "I'm rather sorry to lose Orkins. While he had odd ways, I always felt he could be depended upon. He was the perfect English butler if ever there was one."