middle height, and squarely built to match his jaw. His face was pugnacious but pleasant. No one could have mistaken him for anything but an American, though he spoke with very little accent.
"Get my note? Sit down and tell me right away all you know about my cousin."
"Your cousin?"
"Sure thing. Jane Finn."
"Is she your cousin?"
"My father and her mother were brother and sister," explained Mr. Hersheimmer meticulously.
"Oh!" cried Tuppence. "Then you know where she is?"
"No!" Mr. Hersheimmer brought down his fist with a bang on the table. "I'm darned if I do! Don't you?"
"We advertised to receive information, not to give it," said Tuppence severely.
"I guess I know that. I can read. But I thought maybe it was her back history you were after, and that you'd know where she was now?"
"Well, we wouldn't mind hearing her back history," said Tuppence guardedly.
But Mr. Hersheimmer seemed to grow suddenly suspicious.
"See here," he declared. "This isn't Sicily! No demanding ransom or threatening to crop her ears if I refuse. These are the British Isles, so quit the funny business, or I'll just sing out for that beautiful big British policeman I see out there in Piccadilly."
Tommy hastened to explain.
