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Page 11
"Well--and this _History of Barford_? You reminded him of it?"
"I got it out for him, sir. He sat down--where you're sitting--and began
to examine it. He said something about it being a nice copy, and he'd
get it off that night--that's it, sir: I didn't read it, of course. And
then he took some papers out of a pocket that's inside it, and I heard
him say 'Bless my soul--who'd have thought it!'"
Collingwood picked up the book which the boy indicated--a thick,
substantially bound volume, inside one cover of which was a linen
pocket, wherein were some loose maps and plans of Barford.
"These what he took out?" he asked, holding them up.
"Yes, sir, but there was another paper, with writing on it--a biggish
sheet of paper--written all over."
"Did you see what the writing was? Did you see any of it?"
"No, sir--only that it was writing, I was dusting those shelves out,
over there; when I heard Mr. Bartle say what he did. I just looked
round, over my shoulder--that was all."
"Was he reading this paper that you speak of?"
"Yes, sir--he was holding it up to the gas, reading it."
"Do you know what he did with it?"
"Yes, sir--he folded it up and put it in his pocket."
"Did he say any more--make any remark?"
"No, sir. He wrote a letter then."
"At once?"
"Yes, sir--straight off. But he wasn't more than a minute writing it.
Then he sent me to post it at the pillar-box, at the end of the Alley."
"Did you read the address?"
The lad turned to a book which stood with others in a rack over the
chimney-piece, and tapped it with his finger.
"Yes, sir--because Mr. Bartle gave orders when I first came here that a
register of every letter sent out was to be kept--I've always entered
them in this book."
"And this letter you're talking about--to whom was it addressed?"
"Miss Mallathorpe, Normandale Grange, sir."
"You went and posted it at once?"
"That very minute, sir."
"Was it soon afterwards that Mr. Bartle went out?"
"He went out as soon as I came back, sir."
"And you never saw him again?"
Jabey shook his head.
"Not alive, sir," he answered. "I saw him when they brought him back."
"How long had he been out when you heard he was dead?"
"About an hour, sir--just after six it was when they told Mrs. Clough
and me. He went out at ten minutes past five."
Collingwood got up. He gave the lad's shoulder a friendly squeeze.
"All right!" he said. "Now you seem a smart, intelligent lad--don't
mention a word to any one of what we've been talking about. You have not
mentioned it before, I suppose? Not a word? That's right--don't. Come in
again tomorrow morning to see if I want you to be here as usual. I'm
going to put a manager into this shop."
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