eyes and ears of a vast lot of people, and Mr. James Nottidge'll be answering his bell all day—usually for nothing!"
Then, reflecting that he himself had better be doing something, he finished his breakfast, prepared for going out, and having rolled his umbrella and fitted his hat and gloves to a nicety, set forth for Mornington Crescent, reflecting on matters as he walked along. By that time Wedgwood had arrived at a fixed opinion as regards the matter he had in hand. John Wraypoole had been murdered because he had discovered a secret about Avice Mortover: the person or persons responsible for his murder were also responsible for Avice Mortover's sudden disappearance. To track down one was to track down the other. And in his view of things the woman who had taken Avice Mortover away from her lodgings, doubtless on some plausible pretext, was Mrs. Patello. Mrs. Patello—in league, he felt sure, with her sister Mrs. Clagne. And Mrs. Patello had got to be found.
He had no expectation of news at Mornington Crescent, and he got none. Miss Mortover had not returned, nor had the landlady heard from her. But she had seen Nottidge's advertisement in the paper and was full of amazement at the sum offered as a reward.
