FIFTH NARRATIVE
1. CHAPTER I
(continued)
"What is to our credit?" I asked.
"Mr. Blake! you and I are the two worst amateur detectives
that ever tried their hands at the trade. The man in the grey
suit has been thirty years in the chemist's service.
He was sent to the bank to pay money to his master's account--
and he knows no more of the Moonstone than the babe unborn."
I asked what was to be done next.
"Come back to my office," said Mr. Bruff. "Gooseberry, and my second man,
have evidently followed somebody else. Let us hope that THEY had their eyes
about them at any rate!"
When we reached Gray's Inn Square, the second man had arrived
there before us. He had been waiting for more than a quarter
of an hour.
"Well!" asked Mr. Bruff. "What's your news?"
"I am sorry to say, sir," replied the man, "that I have made a mistake.
I could have taken my oath that I saw Mr. Luker pass something to an
elderly gentleman, in a light-coloured paletot. The elderly gentleman
turns out, sir, to be a most respectable master iron-monger in Eastcheap."
"Where is Gooseberry?" asked Mr. Bruff resignedly.
The man stared. "I don't know, sir. I have seen nothing of him
since I left the bank."
Mr. Bruff dismissed the man. "One of two things," he said to me.
"Either Gooseberry has run away, or he is hunting on his own account.
What do you say to dining here, on the chance that the boy may come
back in an hour or two? I have got some good wine in the cellar,
and we can get a chop from the coffee-house."
We dined at Mr. Bruff's chambers. Before the cloth was removed,
"a person" was announced as wanting to speak to the lawyer.
Was the person Gooseberry? No: only the man who had been employed to
follow Mr. Luker when he left the bank.
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