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Tracy, Louis, 1863-1928

"The Stowmarket Mystery Or, A Legacy of Hate"

I obeyed orders absolutely. I and
my mate took turn about in the lodgings we hired, where we are supposed to
be inventors. My pal has a mechanical twist. He puts together a small
electric machine during his spell, and I take it to pieces in mine.
Yesterday my landlady was in the room, and Ooma looked out of the opposite
window. Then she told me the whole story."
"Go on--do!"
"Mr. Ooma is evidently puzzled to learn what has become of the
Hume-Frazers and Mrs. Capella."
"Why do you bring in her name?"
"Because it leads to the second part of my story. Someone--Capella or his
solicitors, I expect--instructed Messrs. Matchem and Smith, private
detectives, to keep a close eye on the lady. Their man is an ex-police
constable, a former subordinate of mine who was fined for taking a drink
when he ought not to. Of course, I knew him and he knew me, so I hadn't
much trouble in getting it out of him."
The speaker paused with due dramatic effect.
"Got what out of him?" cried Brett impatiently. "And don't puff your
cheeks in that way. Remember the terrible fate of the frog who would be a
bull."
"There's neither frogs nor bulls in this business," retorted Winter, calm
in the consciousness of his coming revelation. "Mrs. Capella did go to
Middle Street that night. She drove there in a hansom, had a long talk
with Ooma, and nearly drove Miss Dew crazy with jealousy.


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