Indeed, the sight of that
tiny type-written slip had stirred Brett to volcanic activity.
He tramped backwards and forwards, enveloped in smoke. Once he halted and
tore at the bell.
A waiter came.
"Go to my room, No. 11, and bring me a leather dressing-case, marked
'R.B.' Run! I give you twenty seconds. After that you lose sixpence a
second out of your tip."
He pulled out his watch. The man dashed along the corridor, much to the
amazement of a passing chamber-maid. He returned, bearing the bag in
triumph.
"Seventeen seconds! By the law of equity you are entitled to
eighteenpence."
Brett produced the money and led the gaping waiter out of the room,
promptly shutting the door on him.
"He's a rum gentleman that," said the waiter to the girl.
"He must be, to make you hurry in such fashion. Why, you wouldn't have
gone faster for a free pint."
"I consider that an impertinent observation." With tilted nose the man
turned and cannoned against Hume.
"Here!" cried the latter. "Run to the stables and get me a horse and trap.
If they are ready in two minutes I'll give you two shillings."
"Talk about makin' money!" gasped the waiter, as he flew downstairs, "this
is coinin'. But, by gum, they _are_ in a hurry."
Brett unlocked his bag and took from it the book of newspaper cuttings.
"Ah!" he said, after a rapid glance at his concluding notes.
Pages:
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
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