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

"The Talleyrand Maxim"

He at once saw
Murgatroyd and his wife standing between shop and parlour, and realized
at a glance that his secret in this instance was his no longer.
"Well?" he said, walking up to the watchmaker. "You've had Prydale
here--and you'd Eldrick this morning. Of course, you knew what to say to
both?"
"I wish we'd never had you here last night, young man!" exclaimed Mrs.
Murgatroyd fiercely. "What right have you to come here, making trouble
for folk that's got plenty already? But at any rate, ours was honest
trouble. Yours is like to land my husband in dishonesty--if it hasn't
done so already! And if my husband had only spoken to me----"
"Just let your husband speak a bit now," interrupted Pratt, almost
insolently. "It's you that's making all the trouble or noise, anyhow!
There's naught to fuss about, missis. What's upset you, Murgatroyd?"
"They're going to the Royal Atlantic people," muttered the watchmaker.
"Of course, it'll all come out, then. They know that I never booked any
Parsons--nor anybody else for that matter--last November. You should ha'
thought o' that!"
Pratt realized that the man was right. He had never thought of
that--never anticipated that inquiry would go beyond Murgatroyd. But his
keen wits at once set to work.
"What's the system?" he asked quickly. "Tell me--what's done when you
book anybody like that? Come on!--explain, quick!"
Murgatroyd turned to a drawer and pulled out a book and some papers.


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