was an old cove as I knew in the Temple there as is, or was, 'cause I ain't been there since, a collector of antikities, like, and I'd sold him a queer old thing, time and again. And, of course, I had him in my eye when I took the stick away—see?"
"I see. And you took the stick to him?"
"I took it there and then," replied Mollison. "Pitched him a tale, I did, about it having been brought from foreign parts by Uncle Simon—which I never had no Uncle Simon. Made out it was a rare curiosity—which it might ha' been one, for all I know."
"Exactly. And the old cove took a fancy to it, eh?"
"Bought it there and then," answered Mollison, with something very like a wink.
"Ah! Bought it there and then. And how much did he give you for it?" asked Spargo. "Something handsome, I hope?"
"Couple o' quid," replied Mollison. "Me not wishing to part with a family heirloom for less."
"Just so. And do you happen to be able to tell me the old cove's name and his address, Mollison?" asked Spargo.
"I do, sir. Which they've painted on his entry—the fifth or sixth as you go down Middle Temple Lane," answered Mollison. "Mr. Nicholas Cardlestone, first floor up the staircase."
Spargo rose from his seat without as much as a look at Breton.
"Come this way, Mollison," he said. "We'll go and see about your little reward. Excuse me, Breton."
