"What about it, Mrs. Patello?" asked the detective, pricking his ears anew. "How does that come in?"
Mrs. Patello inclined her head to one side and smoothed the fur of her coat about her knee, regarding its texture as if it was something of which she was appraising the value. "Well, Mr. Wedgwood," she replied slowly, "and of course between ourselves—me and Mr. Patello are not wealthy people. But we always had a bit of money, and we've saved a bit more, and the fact is, my sister, Mrs. Clagne, has so cracked up this new colliery company to us that we've realized all we had and put the lot into it—shares, you know. And———"
"Mrs. Clagne persuaded you to do that, did she?" interrupted Wedgwood. "Such confidence in it, eh?"
"Well, of course, being on the spot and knowing all the gentlemen that's interested in it she has!" assented Mrs. Patello. "And to be sure, the experts are all agreed that it's one of the richest veins of coal ever struck in this country! Anyhow, Mr. Wedgwood, that's what me and Mr. Patello have done!"
"Has Mrs. Clagne put anything into it?" asked the detective. He was keenly alert by that time, realizing that Mrs. Patello was affording him valuable information instead of
