The Famous Cases of Dr. Thorndyke (Illustrated). R. Austin Freeman
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Название: The Famous Cases of Dr. Thorndyke (Illustrated)

Автор: R. Austin Freeman

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

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isbn: 9788075834591

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СКАЧАТЬ said he, as he replaced the skull, “and the cranial index about 72, which are quite representative numbers; and, as I see that your notes show the usual disproportionate length of arm and the characteristic curve of the tibia, we may be satisfied. But it is fortunate that the specimen is so typical. To the experienced eye, racial types have a physiognomy which is unmistakable on mere inspection. But you cannot transfer the experienced eye. You can only express personal conviction and back it up with measurements.

      “And now we will go and look in on Stalker, and inform him that his office has saved three thousand pounds by employing us. After which it will be Westward Ho! for Scotland Yard, to prepare an unpleasant little surprise for Mr. Percival Bland.”

      There was joy among the journalists on the following day. Each of the morning papers devoted an entire column to an unusually detailed account of the inquest on the late Percival Bland—who, it appeared, met his death by misadventure—and a verbatim report of the coroner’s eloquent remarks on the danger of solitary, fireside tippling, and the stupefying effects of port wine. An adjacent column contained an equally detailed account of the appearance of the deceased at Bow Street Police Court to answer complicated charges of arson, fraud and forgery; while a third collated the two accounts with gleeful commentaries.

      Mr. Percival Bland, alias Robert Lindsay, now resides on the breezy uplands of Dartmoor, where, in his abundant leisure, he, no doubt, regrets his misdirected ingenuity. But he has not laboured in vain. To the Lord Chancellor he has furnished an admirable illustration of the danger of appointing lay coroners; and to me an unforgettable warning against the effects of suggestion.

       The End

      THE MISSING MORTGAGEE

       Table of Contents

       Part I

      Early in the afternoon of a warm, humid November day, Thomas Elton sauntered dejectedly along the Margate esplanade, casting an eye now on the slate-coloured sea with its pall of slate-coloured sky, and now on the harbour, where the ebb tide was just beginning to expose the mud. It was a dreary prospect, and Elton varied it by observing the few fishermen and fewer promenaders who walked foot to foot with their distorted reflections in the wet pavement; and thus it was that his eye fell on a smartly-dressed man who had just stepped into a shelter to light a cigar.

      A contemporary joker has classified the Scotsmen who abound in South Africa into two groups: those, namely, who hail from Scotland, and those who hail from Palestine. Now, something in the aspect of the broad back that was presented to his view, in that of the curly, black hair and the exuberant raiment, suggested to Elton a Scotsman of the latter type. In fact, there was a suspicion of disagreeable familiarity in the figure which caused him to watch it and slacken his pace. The man backed out of the shelter, diffusing azure clouds, and, drawing an envelope from his pocket, read something that was written on it. Then he turned quickly—and so did Elton, but not quickly enough. For he was a solitary figure on that bald and empty expanse, and the other had seen him at the first glance. Elton walked away slowly, but he had not gone a dozen paces when he felt the anticipated slap on the shoulder and heard the too well-remembered voice.

      “Blow me, if I don’t believe you were trying to cut me, Tom,” it said.

      Elton looked round with ill-assumed surprise. “Hallo, Gordon! Who the deuce would have thought of seeing you here?”

      Gordon laughed thickly. “Not you, apparently; and you don’t look as pleased as you might now you have seen me. Whereas I’m delighted to see you, and especially to see that things are going so well with you.”

      “What do you mean?” asked Elton.

      “Taking your winter holiday by the sea, like a blooming duke.”

      “I’m not taking a holiday,” said Elton. “I was so worn out that I had to have some sort of change; but I’ve brought my work down with me, and I put in a full seven hours every day.”

      “That’s right,” said Gordon. “‘Consider the ant.’ Nothing like steady industry! I’ve brought my work down with me too; a little slip of paper with a stamp on it. You know the article, Tom.”

      “I know. But it isn’t due till to-morrow, is it?”

      “Isn’t it, by gum! It’s due this very day, the twentieth of the month. That’s why I’m here. Knowing your little weakness in the matter of dates, and having a small item to collect in Canterbury, I thought I’d just come on, and save you the useless expense that results from forgetfulness.”

      Elton understood the hint, and his face grew rigid.

      “I can’t do it, Gordon; I can’t really. Haven’t got it, and shan’t have it until I’m paid for the batch of drawings that I’m working on now.”

      “Oh, but what a pity!” exclaimed Gordon, taking the cigar from his thick, pouting lips to utter the exclamation. “Here you are, blueing your capital on seaside jaunts and reducing your income at a stroke by a clear four pounds a year.”

      “How do you make that out?” demanded Elton.

      “Tut, tut,” protested Gordon, “what an unbusinesslike chap you are! Here’s a little matter of twenty pounds quarter’s interest. If it’s paid now, it’s twenty. If it isn’t, it goes on to the principal and there’s another four pounds a year to be paid. Why don’t you try to be more economical, dear boy?”

      Elton looked askance at the vampire by his side; at the plump blue-shaven cheeks, the thick black eyebrows, the drooping nose, and the full, red lips that embraced the cigar, and though he was a mild tempered man he felt that he could have battered that sensual, complacent face out of all human likeness, with something uncommonly like enjoyment. But of these thoughts nothing appeared in his reply, for a man cannot afford to say all he would wish to a creditor who could ruin him with a word.

      “You mustn’t be too hard on me, Gordon,” said he. “Give me a little time. I’m doing all I can, you know. I earn every penny that I am able, and I have kept my insurance paid up regularly. I shall be paid for this work in a week or two and then we can settle up.”

      Gordon made no immediate reply, and the two men walked slowly eastward, a curiously ill-assorted pair: the one prosperous, jaunty, overdressed; the other pale and dejected, and, with his well-brushed but napless clothes, his patched boots and shiny-brimmed hat, the very type of decent, struggling poverty.

      They had just passed the pier, and were coming to the base of the jetty, when Gordon next spoke.

      “Can’t we get off this beastly wet pavement?” he asked, looking down at his dainty and highly-polished boots. “What’s it like down on the sands?”

      “Oh, it’s very good walking,” said Elton, “between here and Foreness, and probably drier than the pavement.”

      “Then,” said Gordon, “I vote we go down;” and accordingly they descended the sloping way beyond the jetty. The stretch of sand left by the retiring tide was as smooth and firm as a sheet of asphalt, and far more pleasant to walk upon.

      “We seem to have the place all to ourselves,” remarked Gordon, “with the exception of some half-dozen dukes like yourself.”

      As СКАЧАТЬ