I could scarcely believe my senses. He, the great Hemlock Jones,
accepting suggestions from a humble individual like myself! I
kissed his hand reverently, and began in a joyous tone:

"First, I should advertise, offering a reward; I should give the
same intimation in hand-bills, distributed at the 'pubs' and the
pastry-cooks'. I should next visit the different pawnbrokers; I
should give notice at the police station. I should examine the
servants. I should thoroughly search the house and my own pockets.
I speak relatively," I added, with a laugh. "Of course I mean YOUR
own."

He gravely made an entry of these details.

"Perhaps," I added, "you have already done this?"

"Perhaps," he returned enigmatically. "Now, my dear friend," he
continued, putting the note-book in his pocket and rising, "would
you excuse me for a few moments? Make yourself perfectly at home
until I return; there may be some things," he added with a sweep of
his hand toward his heterogeneously filled shelves, "that may
interest you and while away the time. There are pipes and tobacco
in that corner."

Then nodding to me with the same inscrutable face he left the room.
I was too well accustomed to his methods to think much of his
unceremonious withdrawal, and made no doubt he was off to
investigate some clue which had suddenly occurred to his active
intelligence.