"When did Stainsby go?" demanded Wedgwood. He suddenly remembered his vision of the apprentice in the taxi-cab near Westminster Bridge. "What time?"
"Can't say!" replied Gregson. "I had to go out yesterday afternoon—I've still got my old business down Whitechapel way. They were both here when I left at two o'clock—when I came back at six they were flown! Dutch leave!"
"You think they've run away?" suggested Wedgwood.
"That's just what I do think!" agreed Gregson. "Nice conduct! And awkward for me. No help—and of course the living-rooms, upstairs, want seeing to."
"To be sure," said Wedgwood. "By the by, have you any objection to my having a look round those rooms?"
"Not a bit, sir, as long as you don't want me to go round with you! Go up with pleasure. And so," he suddenly added as he opened a door at the side of the warehouse, "so you're wanting Wraypoole? For what, now?"
Wedgwood shook his head.
"In connection with such a very serious matter, Mr. Gregson, that I don't like to say what till I get more evidence," he answered. "I
