“No,” I responded to the officer’s inquiry. “I was so bent upon giving information that I forgot to place any mark upon the house by which to know it again.”
“Well, I’ve ’eard a good many funny stories while I’ve been on night-duty in these eighteen years, but your yarn is about the rummest of the lot,” he said bluntly.
“I only know that the house is a large one, very well furnished, and has a portico and railings in front—a double house, with hall in the centre, and rooms on either side.”
“That don’t ’elp us very much, sonny,” the voice observed. “What’s the good o’ running after me with a yarn like this if you can’t take me to the spot? To judge from the state of your clothes, though, you’ve been in some scrap or another. If your coat was not covered with blood as it is, I’d be inclined to put you down as a chap with a screw loose.”
“I’m not demented, I tell you,” I cried warmly. “There’s a terrible crime been committed, and I have sought your assistance.”
“And I’d go and have a look at the premises with you, if you could only tell me where they are. But as you can’t—well, what are we to do, sonny?”