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J. S. Fletcher
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 228 pages of information about The Rayner-Slade Amalgamation.

“What name?” asked Appleyard.

“The name,” replied the second Gaffney, “is Gavin Ramsay—­Agent.”

CHAPTER XVII

THE PHOTOGRAPH

Allerdyke went off to Hull, post-haste, because of a telephone call which roused him out of bed an hour before his usual time.  It came from Chettle, the New Scotland Yard man who had been sent down to Hull as soon as the news of Lydenberg’s murder arrived.  Chettle asked Allerdyke to join him by the very next express, and to come alone; he asked him, moreover, not to tell Mr. Franklin Fullaway whither he was bound.  And Allerdyke, having taken a quick glance at a time-table, summoned Gaffney, told him of his journey, bade him keep his tongue quiet at the Waldorf, wrote his hasty note to Appleyard, dressed, and hurried away to King’s Cross.  He breakfasted on the train, and was in Hull by one o’clock, and Chettle hailed him as he set foot on the platform, and immediately led him off to a cab which awaited them outside the station.

“Much obliged to you for coming so promptly, Mr. Allerdyke,” said the detective.  “And for coming by yourself—­that was just what I wanted.”

“Aye, and why?” asked Allerdyke.  “Why by myself?  I’ve been wondering about that all the way down.”

Chettle, a sleek, comfortable-looking man, with a quiet manner and a sly glance, laughed knowingly, twiddling his fat thumbs as he leaned back in the cab.  “Oh, well, it doesn’t do—­in my opinion—­to spread information amongst too many people, Mr. Allerdyke,” he said.  “That’s my notion of things, anyway.  I just wanted to go into a few matters with you, alone, d’ye see?  I didn’t want that American gentleman along with you.  Eh?”

“Now, why?” asked Allerdyke.  “Out with it!”

“Well, you see, Mr. Allerdyke,” answered the detective, “we know you.  You’re a man of substance, you’ve got a big stake in the country—­you’re Allerdyke, of Allerdyke and Partners, Limited, Bradford and London.  But we don’t know Fullaway.  He may be all right, but you could only call him a bird of passage, like.  He can close down his business and be away out of England to-morrow, and, personally, I don’t believe in letting him into every secret about all this affair until we know more about him.  You see, Mr. Allerdyke, there’s one thing very certain—­so far as we’ve ascertained at present, nobody but Fullaway, and possibly whoever’s in his employ, was acquainted with the fact that your cousin was carrying those jewels from Russia to England.  Nobody in this country, at any rate.  And—­it’s a thing of serious importance, sir.”

Just what Appleyard had said!—­what, indeed, no one of discernment could help saying, thought Allerdyke.  The sole knowledge, of course, was with Fullaway and his lady clerk—­so far as was known.  Therefore—­

“Just so,” he said aloud.  “I see your point—­of course, I’ve already seen it.  Well, what are we going to do—­now?  You’ve brought me down here for something special, no doubt.”

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