Mr. Hamper spat in his right palm, and rubbed his hands together,
appreciatively.

"Make it five bob!" he said.

"Wait downstairs," directed Dunbar, pressing a bell-push beside the
door. "I'll get it put through for you."

"Right 'o!" rumbled the cabman, and went lurching from the room as a
constable in uniform appeared at the door. "Good mornin', guv'nor. Good
mornin'!"

The cabman having departed, leaving in his wake a fragrant odor of
fourpenny ale:--

"Here you are, Sowerby!" cried Dunbar. "We are moving at last! This is
the address of the late Mrs. Vernon's maid. See her; feel your ground,
carefully, of course; get to know what clothes Mrs. Vernon took with her
on her periodical visits to Scotland."

"What clothes?"

"That's the idea; it is important. I don't think the girl was in
her mistress's confidence, but I leave it to you to find out. If
circumstances point to my surmise being inaccurate--you know how to
act."

"Just let me glance over your notes, bearing on the matter," said
Sowerby, "and I'll be off."