"
The puzzled look on Harley's face grew more acute, and the Major
watched him with an expression which I can only describe as one
of fierce enjoyment.
"You're thinkin' I'm a damned old fool, ain't you?" he shouted
suddenly.
"Scarcely that," said Harley, smiling slightly, "but the
significance of these paragraphs is not apparent, I must confess.
The man Bampton would not appear to be an interesting character,
and since no great damage has been done, his drunken frolic
hardly comes within my sphere. Of Mr. De Lana, of the Stock
Exchange, I never heard, unless he happens to be a member of the
firm of De Lana and Day?"
"He's not a member of that firm, sir," shouted the Major. "He
was, up to six o'clock this evenin'."
"What do you mean exactly?" inquired Harley, and the tone of his
voice suggested that he was beginning to entertain doubts of the
Major's sanity or sobriety; then:
"He's dead!" declared the latter. "Dead as the Begum of
Bangalore! He died at six o'clock. I've just spoken to his
widow on the telephone."
I suppose I must have been staring very hard at the speaker, and
certainly Harley was doing so, for suddenly directing his fierce
gaze toward me:
"You're completely treed, sir, and so's your friend!" shouted
Major Ragstaff.
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