the lodger-第42节

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came　his　opportunity　of　doing　so；　for　Joe　Chandler　rose　to　leave；　and　this　time　it　was　Bunting　who　followed　him　out　into　the　hall。

〃Where　did　it　happen？〃　he　whispered。　　〃Just　tell　me　that；　Joe？〃

〃Primrose　Hill；〃　said　the　other　briefly。　　〃You'll　know　all　about　it　in　a　minute　or　two；　for　it'll　be　all　in　the　last　editions　of　the　evening　papers。　　That's　what's　been　arranged。〃

〃No　arrest　I　suppose？〃

Chandler　shook　his　head　despondently。　　〃No；〃　he　said；　〃I'm　inclined　to　think　the　Yard　was　on　a　wrong　tack　altogether　this　time。　　But　one　can　only　do　one's　best。　I　don't　know　if　Mrs。　Bunting　told　you　I'd　got　to　question　a　barmaid　about　a　man　who　was　in　her　place　just　before　closing…time。　　Well；　she's　said　all　she　knew；　and　it's　as　clear　as　daylight　to　me　that　the　eccentric　old　gent　she　talks　about　was　only　a　harmless　luny。　　He　gave　her　a　sovereign　just　because　she　told　him　she　was　a　teetotaller！〃　　He　laughed　ruefully。

Even　Bunting　was　diverted　at　the　notion。　　〃Well；　that's　a　queer　thing　for　a　barmaid　to　be！〃　he　exclaimed。　　〃She's　niece　to　the　people　what　keeps　the　public；〃　explained　Chandler；　and　then　he　went　out　of　the　front　door　with　a　cheerful　〃So　long！〃

When　Bunting　went　back　into　the　sitting…room　Daisy　had　disappeared。　She　had　gone　downstairs　with　the　tray。　　〃Where's　my　girl？〃　he　said　irritably。

〃She's　just　taken　the　tray　downstairs。〃

He　went　out　to　the　top　of　the　kitchen　stairs；　and　called　out　sharply；　〃Daisy！　　Daisy；　child！　　Are　you　down　there？〃

〃Yes；　father；〃　came　her　eager；　happy　voice。

〃Better　come　up　out　of　that　cold　kitchen。〃

He　turned　and　came　back　to　his　wife。　　〃Ellen；　is　the　lodger　in？　　I　haven't　heard　him　moving　about。　　Now　mind　what　I　says；　please！　　I　don't　want　Daisy　to　be　mixed　up　with　him。〃

〃Mr。　Sleuth　don't　seem　very　well　to…day；〃　answered　Mrs。　Bunting　quietly。　　〃'Tain't　likely　I　should　let　Daisy　have　anything　to　do　with　him。　　Why；　she's　never　even　seen　him。　　'Tain't　likely　I　should　allow　her　to　begin　waiting　on　him　now。〃

But　though　she　was　surprised　and　a　little　irritated　by　the　tone　in　which　Bunting　had　spoken；　no　glimmer　of　the　truth　illumined　her　mind。　So　accustomed　had　she　become　to　bearing　alone　the　burden　of　her　awful　secret；　that　it　would　have　required　far　more　than　a　cross　word　or　two；　far　more　than　the　fact　that　Bunting　looked　ill　and　tired；　for　her　to　have　come　to　suspect　that　her　secret　was　now　shared　by　another；　and　that　other　her　husband。

Again　and　again　the　poor　soul　had　agonised　and　trembled　at　the　thought　of　her　house　being　invaded　by　the　police；　but　that　was　only　because　she　had　always　credited　the　police　with　supernatural　powers　of　detection。　　That　they　should　come　to　know　the　awful　fact　she　kept　hidden　in　her　breast　would　have　seemed　to　her；　on　the　whole；　a　natural　thing；　but　that　Bunting　should　even　dimly　suspect　it　appeared　beyond　the　range　of　possibility。

And　yet　even　Daisy　noticed　a　change　in　her　father。　　He　sat　cowering　over　the　fire　…　saying　nothing；　doing　nothing。

〃Why；　father；　ain't　you　well？〃　the　girl　asked　more　than　once。

And；　looking　up；　he　would　answer；　〃Yes；　I'm　well　enough；　nay　girl；　but　I　feels　cold。　　It's　awful　cold。　　I　never　did　feel　anything　like　the　cold　we've　got　just　now。〃


At　eight　the　now　familiar　shouts　and　cries　began　again　outside。

〃The　Avenger　again！〃　〃Another　horrible　crime！〃　　〃Extra　speshul　edition！〃　…　such　were　the　shouts；　the　exultant　yells；　hurled　through　the　clear；　cold　air。　　They　fell；　like　bombs　into　the　quiet　room。

Both　Bunting　and　his　wife　remained　silent；　but　Daisy's　cheeks　grew　pink　with　excitement；　and　her　eye　sparkled。

〃Hark；　father！　　Hark；　Ellen！　　D'you　hear　that？〃　she　exclaimed　childishly；　and　even　clapped　her　hands。　　〃I　do　wish　Mr。　Chandler　had　been　here。　　He　would　'a　been　startled！〃

〃Don't；　Daisy！〃　and　Bunting　frowned。

Then；　getting　up；　he　stretched　himself。　　〃It's　fair　getting　on　my　mind；〃　he　said；　〃these　horrible　things　happening。　　I'd　like　to　get　right　away　　from　London；　just　as　far　as　I　could　…　that　I　would！〃

〃Up　to　John…o'…Groat's？〃　said　Daisy；　laughing。　　And　then；　〃Why；　father；　ain't　you　going　out　to　get　a　paper？〃

〃Yes；　I　suppose　I　must。〃

Slowly　he　went　out　of　the　room；　and；　lingering　a　moment　in　the　hall；　he　put　on　his　greatcoat　and　hat。　　Then　he　opened　the　front　door；　and　walked　down　the　flagged　path。　　Opening　the　iron　gate；　he　stepped　out　on　the　pavement；　then　crossed　the　road　to　where　the　newspaper…boys　now　stood。

The　boy　nearest　to　him　only　had　the　Sun　…　a　late　edition　of　the　paper　he　had　already　read。　　It　annoyed　Bunting　to　give　a　penny　for　a　ha'penny　rag　of　which　he　already　knew　the　main　contents。　　But　there　was　nothing　else　to　do。

Standing　under　a　lamp…post；　he　opened　out　the　newspaper。　　It　was　bitingly　cold；　that；　perhaps；　was　why　his　hand　shook　as　he　looked　down　at　the　big　headlines。　　For　Bunting　had　been　very　unfair　to　the　enterprise　of　the　editor　of　his　favourite　evening　paper。　　This　special　edition　was　full　of　new　matter　…　new　matter　concerning　The　Avenger。

First；　in　huge　type　right　across　the　page；　was　the　brief　statement　that　The　Avenger　had　now　committed　his　ninth　crime；　and　that　he　had　chosen　quite　a　new　locality；　namely；　the　lonely　stretch　of　rising　ground　known　to　Londoners　as　Primrose　Hill。

〃The　police。〃　so　Bunting　read；　〃are　very　reserved　as　to　the　circumstances　which　led　to　the　finding　of　the　body　of　The　Avenger's　latest　victim。　　But　we　have　reason　to　believe　that　they　possess　several　really　important　clues；　and　that　one　of　them　is　concerned　with　the　half…worn　rubber　sole　of　which　we　are　the　first　to　reproduce　an　outline　to…day。　　（See　over　page。）〃

And　Bunting；　turning　the　sheet　round　about；　saw　the　irregular　outline　he　had　already　seen　in　the　early　edition　of　the　Sun；　that　purporting　to　be　a　facsimile　of　the　imprint　left　by　The　Avenger's　rubber　sole。

He　stared　down　at　the　rough　outline　which　took　up　so　much　of　the　space　which　should　have　been　devoted　to　reading　matter　with　a　queer；　sinking　feeling　of　terrified　alarm。　　Again　and　again　criminals　had　been　tracked　by　the　marks　their　boots　or　shoes　had　made　at　or　near　the　scenes　of　their　misdoings。

Practically　the　only　job　Bunting　did　in　his　own　house　of　a　menial　kind　was　the　cleaning　of　the　boots　and　shoes。　　He　had　already　visualised　early　this　very　afternoon　the　little　row　with　which　he　dealt　each　morning　…　first　came　his　wife's　strong；　serviceable　boots；　then　his　own　two　pairs；　a　good　deal　patched　and　mended；　and　next　to　his　own　Mr。　Sleuth's　strong；　hardly　worn；　and　expensive　buttoned　boots。　　Of　late　a　dear　little　coquettish　high…heeled　pair　of　outdoor　shoes　with　thin；　paperlike　soles；　bought　by　Daisy　for　her　trip　to　London；　had　ended　the　row。　　The　girl　had　worn　these　thin　shoes　persistently；　in　defiance　of　Ellen's　reproof　and　advice；　and　he；　Bunting；　had　only　once　had　to　clean　her　more　sensible　country　pair；　and　that　only　because　the　others　had　become　wet　though　the　day　he　and　she　had　accompanied　young　Chandler　to　Scotland　Yard。

Slowly　he　returned　across　the　road。　　Somehow　the　thought　of　going　in　again；　of　hearing　his　wife's　sarcastic　comments；　of　parrying　Daisy's　eager　questions；　had　become　intolerable。　　So　he　walked　slowly；　trying　to　put　off　the　evil　moment　when　he　would　have　to　tell　them　what　was　in　his　paper。

The　lamp　under　which　he　had　stood　reading　was　not　exactly　opposite　the　house。　　It　was　rather　to　the　right　of　it。　　And　when；　having　crossed　over　the　roadway；　he　walked　along　the　pavement　towards　his　own　gate；　he　heard　odd；　shuffling　sounds　coming　from　the　inner　side　of　the　low　wall　which　shut　off　his　little　courtyard　from　the　pavement。

Now；　under　ordinary　circumstances　Bunting　would　have　rushed　forward　to　drive　out　whoever　was　there。　　He　and　his　wife　had　often　had　trouble；　before　the　cold　weather　began；　with　vagrants　seeking　shelter　there。　　But　to…night　he　stayed　outside；　listening　intently；　sick　with　suspense　and　fear。

Was　it　possible　that　their　place　was　being　watched　…　already？　　He　thought　it　only　too　likely。　　Bunting；　like　Mrs。　Bunting；　credited　the　police　with　almost　supernatural　powers；　especially　since　he　had　paid　that　visit　to　Scotland　Yard。

But　to　Bunting's　amazement；　and；　yes；　relief；　it　was　his　lodger　who　suddenly　loomed　up　in　the　dim　light。

Mr。　Sleuth　must　have　been　stooping　down；　for　his　tall；　lank　form　had　been　quite　concealed　till　he　stepped　forward　from　behind　the　low　wall　on　to　the　flagged　path　leading　to　the　front　door。

The　lodger　was　carrying　a　brown　paper　parcel；　and；　as　he　walked　along；　the　new　boots　he　was　wearing　creaked；　and　the　tap…tap　of　hard　nail…studded　heels　rang　out　on　the　flat…stones　of　the　narrow　path。

Bunting；　still　standing　outside　the　gate；　suddenly　knew　what　it　was　his　lodger　had　been　doing　on　the　other　side　of　the　low　wall。　　Mr。　Sleuth　had　evidently　been　out　to　buy　himself　another　pair　of　new　boots；　and　then　be　had　gone　inside　the　gate　and　had　put　them　on；　placing　his　old　footgear　in　the　paper　in　which　the　new　pair　had　been　wrapped。

The　ex…butler　waited　…　waited　quite　a　long　time；　not　only　until　Mr。　Sleuth　had　let　himself　into　the　house；　but　till　the　lodger　had　had　time　to　get　well　away；　upstairs。

Then　he　also　walked　up　the　flagged　pathway；　and　put　his　latchkey　in　the　door。　　He　lingered　as　long　over　the　job　of　hangin