were coming down the Marylebone Road, shouting out the awful
discovery which had been made that morning--that of The Avenger's
fifth murder. Bunting went out to buy a paper, and his wife took
the things he had brought in down to the kitchen.

The noise the newspaper-sellers made outside had evidently wakened
Mr. Sleuth, for his landlady hadn't been in the kitchen ten minutes
before his bell rang.



CHAPTER VI

Mr. Sleuth's bell rang again.

Mr. Sleuth's breakfast was quite ready, but for the first time since
he had been her lodger Mrs. Bunting did not answer the summons at
once. But when there came the second imperative tinkle--for
electric bells had not been fitted into that old-fashioned house--
she made up her mind to go upstairs.

As she emerged into the hall from the kitchen stairway, Bunting,
sitting comfortably in their parlour, heard his wife stepping heavily
under the load of the well-laden tray.

"Wait a minute!" he called out. "I'll help you, Ellen," and he came
out and took the tray from her.

She said nothing, and together they proceeded up to the drawing-room
floor landing.