Gerald told the story with the greatest
enjoyment and such fullness of detail that the church clock chimed
half-past eleven as he said, "Having done all that human agency
could do, and further help being despaired of, our gallant young
detective Hullo, there's Mabel!"
There was. The tail-board of a cart shed her almost at their feet.
"I couldn't wait any longer," she explained, "when you didn't come.
And I got a lift. Has anything more happened?" The burglars had
gone when Bates got to the strong-room.
"You don't mean to say all that wheeze is real?" Jimmy asked.
"Of course it's real," said Kathleen. "Go on, Jerry. He's just got to
where he threw the stone into your bread-and-butter pudding,
Mabel. Go on.
Mabel climbed on to the wall. "You've got visible again quicker
than I did," she said.
Gerald nodded and resumed:
"Our story must be told in as few words as possible, owing to the
fish-frying taking place at twelve, and it's past the half-hour now.
Having left his missive to do its warning work, Gerald de Sherlock
Holmes sped back, wrapped in invisibility, to the spot where by the
light of their dark-lanterns the burglars were still still burgling with
the utmost punctuality and despatch. I didn't see any sense in
running into danger, so I just waited outside the passage where the
steps are you know?"
Mabel nodded.
"Presently they came out, very cautiously, of course, and looked
about them.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106