He remembered Elkin's make-up as Svengali, of course, and
could have kicked himself for not associating earlier a set of sable
whiskers with the black wig and the bullet-torn hat.
But, Owd Ben! What figure did that redoubtable ghost cut in the mystery?
"There are certain _lacunae_ in your otherwise vigorous and thrilling
story, constable," went on Hart.
"Very likely, sir," agreed Robinson, much to the surprise of his
hearers. He had not the slightest notion what a _lacuna_, or its
plural, signified. He was only adopting Furneaux's advice, and trying
to be civil.
"Ah, you see that, do you?" said Hart. "Well, fill 'em in. When, where,
and how did the midget sleuth obtain the specter's hairy adornments?"
The policeman, whose wits were thoroughly on the alert, realized that he
had scored a point, though he knew not how.
"He did not tell me, sir," he answered. "It's a rum business, that's what
it is, no matter what way you look at it."
Grant, agreeably aware of the village constable's change of front,
accepted the olive branch readily.
"We're just going for a walk," he said. "If you have ten minutes to
spare, Mrs. Bates will find you some luncheon, I have no doubt.
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