in Germany. Another time I once heard him say that he'd ideas of going in for the oil trade in Russia. I don't know where he's gone."
"Have you known him long?" enquired the detective.
"Matter of three or four years, sir—just in the trading way."
"Do you know his wife?"
Gregson looked surprised.
"Wife? He hadn't a wife, sir. Bachelor, he was—he'd a housekeeper to look after this place. And———"
"Look here, Mr. Gregson!" broke in Wedgwood. "I'd better tell you who I am. I'm a police-officer—detective, you know—and I want Thomas Wraypoole! I want him in relation to more than one matter. And I should like to see that housekeeper you mention—I think she might give me some information. Is she in?"
Gregson who had stared his surprise at Wedgwood's first intimation, made a gesture with his hands.
"She isn't!" he answered. "I don't know where she is. She cleared clean out of this place yesterday afternoon, and I've never seen her since. So did the apprentice—young varmint! I've never seen him since! Both gone—confound 'em."
