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Fletcher, J. S. (Joseph Smith), 1863-1935

"The Talleyrand Maxim"

You fill up particulars on a form and a counterfoil,
don't you? And you send a copy of those particulars to the Royal
Atlantic offices at Liverpool?"
Murgatroyd nodded silently--this was much more than he bargained for,
and he did not know how much further it was going. And Prydale gave him
a sudden searching look.
"Can you show us the counterfoil in this instance?" he asked.
Murgatroyd flushed. But he managed to get out a fairly quick reply. "No,
I can't," he answered, "I sent that book back at the end of the year."
"Oh, well--they'll have it at Liverpool," observed Prydale. "We can get
at it there. Of course, they'll have your record of the entire
transaction. He'd be down on their passenger list--under the name of
Parsons, I think, Mr. Murgatroyd?"
"He gave me that name," said Murgatroyd.
Prydale gave Byner a look and both rose.
"I think that's about all," said the detective. "Of course, our next
inquiry will be at Liverpool---at the Royal Atlantic. Thank you, Mr.
Murgatroyd--much obliged."
Before the watchmaker could collect himself sufficiently to say or ask
more, Prydale and his companion had walked out of the shop and gone
away. And then Murgatroyd realized that he was in for--but he did not
know what he was in for. What he did know was that if Prydale went or
sent over to Liverpool the whole thing would burst like a bubble.


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