"It's simple enough," he said. "I've this book of forms, d'ye see? I
fill up this form--sort of ticket or pass for the passenger, and hand it
to him--it's a receipt as well, to him. Then I enter the same
particulars on that counterfoil. Then I fill up one of these papers,
giving just the same particulars, and post it at once to the Company
with the passage money, less my commission. When one of these books is
finished, I return the counterfoils to Liverpool--they check 'em.
Prydale's up to all that. He asked to see the counterfoil in this case.
I had to say I hadn't got it--I'd sent it to the Company. Of course,
he'll find out that I didn't."
"Lies!" said Mrs. Murgatroyd, vindictively. "And they didn't start wi'
us neither!"
"Who was that other man with Prydale?" asked Pratt.
"London detective, I should say," answered the watchmaker. "And judging
by the way he watched me, a sharp 'un, too!"
"What impression did you get--altogether?" demanded Pratt.
"Why!--that they're going to sift this affair--whatever it is--right
down to the bottom!" exclaimed Murgatroyd. "They're either going to find
Parrawhite or get to know what became of him. That's my impression. And
what am I going to do, now! This'll lose me what bit of business I've
done with yon shipping firm."
"Nothing of the sort!" answered Pratt scornfully. "Don't be a fool!
You're all right.
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