"
Out he went, not even heeding Tomlin's appeal to drink the ginger-ale he
had just ordered.
"Just like 'im," sighed Hobbs. "Good-'earted fellow! Would find hexcuses
for a black rat."
Elkin talked more freely now that the chemist's disapproving eye was off
him. Ultimately, Mr. Franklin elected to smoke a cigar in the open air,
and strolled forth. He sauntered down the hill, stood on the bridge, and
admired the soft blue tones of the landscape in the half light of a
summer evening. Shortly before closing time, Robinson appeared, it being
part of his routine duty to see that no noisy revelers disturbed the
peace of the village. He noticed the stranger at once, and elected to
walk past him.
Thus, he received yet another shock when Mr. Franklin addressed
him by name.
"Good evening, Robinson," said the pleasant, clear-toned voice. "I've
been expecting you to turn up. Kindly go back home, and leave the door
open. I want to slip in quietly. I am Chief Inspector Winter, of
Scotland Yard."
"You don't say so, sir!" stammered Robinson.
"But I do say it, and will prove it to you, of course. I'll be with you
in a minute or two. There's someone coming.
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