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Page 62
The inquiry agent looked keenly at the solicitor for a moment during
which they both kept silence. Then Byner smiled.
"You said--'or says he knows,'" he remarked. "Do you think he didn't
tell the truth about Parrawhite?"
"I should say--now--it's quite likely he didn't," answered Eldrick. "The
truth is, I'm making some inquiry myself about Pratt--and I don't want
this to interfere with it. You keep me informed of what you find out,
and I'll help you all I can while you're here. It may be----"
A clerk came into the room and looked at his master.
"Mr. George Pickard, of the _Green Man_ at Whitcliffe, sir," he said.
"Well?" asked Eldrick.
"Wants to see you about that advertisement in the paper this morning,
sir," continued the clerk.
Eldrick looked at Byner and smiled significantly. Then he turned towards
the door.
"Bring Mr. Pickard in," he said.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE CONFIDING LANDLORD
The clerk presently ushered in a short, thick-set, round-faced man,
apparently of thirty to thirty-five years of age, whose chief personal
characteristics lay in a pair of the smallest eyes ever set in a human
countenance and a mere apology for a nose. But both nose and eyes
combined somehow to communicate an idea of profound inquiry as the round
face in which they were placed turned from the solicitor to the man from
London, and a podgy forefinger was lifted to a red forehead.
"Servant, gentlemen," said the visitor. "Fine morning for the time of
year!"
"Take a chair, Mr. Pickard," replied Eldrick. "Let me see--from the
_Green Man_, at Whitcliffe, I believe?"
"Landlord, sir--had that house a many years," answered Pickard, as he
took a seat near the wall. "Seven year come next Michaelmas, any road."
"Just so--and you want to see me about the advertisement in this
morning's paper?" continued Eldrick. "What about it--now?"
The landlord looked at Eldrick and then at Eldrick's companion. The
solicitor understood that look: it meant that what his caller had to say
was of a private nature.
"It's all right, Mr. Pickard," he remarked reassuringly. "This gentleman
is here on just the same business--whatever you say will be treated as
confidential--it'll go no further. You've something to tell about my
late clerk, James Parrawhite."
Pickard, who had been nervously fingering a white billycock hat, now put
it down on the floor and thrust his hands into the pockets of his
trousers as if to keep them safe while he talked.
"It's like this here," he answered. "When I saw that there advertisement
in the paper this mornin', says I to my missus, 'I'll away,' I says,
'an' see Lawyer Eldrick about that there, this very day!' 'Cause you
see, Mr. Eldrick, there is summat as I can tell about yon man 'at you
mention--James Parrawhite. I've said nowt about it to nobody, up to now,
'cause it were private business atween him and me, as it were, but I
lost money over it, and of course, ten pound is ten pound, gentlemen."
"Quite so," agreed Eldrick, "And you shall have your ten pounds if you
can tell anything useful."
"I don't know owt about it's being useful, sir, nor what use is to be
made on it," said Pickard, "but I can tell you a bit o' truth, and you
can do what you like wi' what I tell. But," he went on, lowering his
voice and glancing at the door by which he had just entered, "there's
another name 'at 'll have to be browt in--private, like. Name, as it so
happens, o' one o' your clerks--t' head clerk, I'm given to
understand--Mr. Pratt."
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