Hoopdriver aloud, bringing his
fist down beside the teapot.
What would Sherlock Holmes have done? Perhaps, after all, there
might be such things as clues in the world, albeit the age of
miracles was past. But to look for a clue in this intricate
network of cobbled streets, to examine every muddy interstice!
There was a chance by looking about and inquiry at the various
inns. Upon that he began. But of course they might have ridden
straight through and scarcely a soul have marked them. And then
came a positivelybrilliant idea. "'Ow many ways are there out of
Chichester?" said Mr. Hoopdriver. It was really equal to Sherlock
Holmes--that." If they've made tracks, I shall find those tracks.
If not--they're in the town." He was then in East Street, and he
started at once to make the circuit of the place, discovering
incidentally that Chichester is a walled city. In passing, he
made inquiries at the Black Swan, the Crown, and the Red Lion
Hotel. At six o'clock in the evening, he was walking downcast,
intent, as one who had dropped money, along the road towards
Bognor, kicking up the dust with his shoes and fretting with
disappointed pugnacity. A thwarted, crestfallen Hoopdriver it
was, as you may well imagine. And then suddenly there jumped upon
his attention--a broad line ribbed like a shilling, and close
beside it one chequered, that ever and again split into two.
"Found!" said Mr. Hoopdriver and swung round on his heel at once,
and back to the Royal George, helter skelter, for the bicycle
they were minding for him.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106