"That is my desire. Misery wails through the corridors. In her presence let us bury private differences. In this appalling catastrophe every help is required. You have youth, manhood; you should be invaluable."

George declared: "I mean to be. I will not rest until the Rose is restored."

This was perfectly true, as he was to discover.

"Commendable," Mr. Marrapit p.r.o.nounced. Now that this volunteer was enlisted, Mr. Marrapit discarded supplication, resumed mastery. "While you have searched," he said, "I have schemed." He indicated the paper he carried. "These are my plans. Peruse them."

George read; returned the paper. "If these arrangements do not restore the Rose," he declared, "nothing will. I see you do not mention my name. I fear you doubted my a.s.sistance. I think I will join the--the-- --"--he glanced at the paper--"the _extra-mural_ searchers. I know the countryside well. I can go far and fast."

Mr. Marrapit agreed. "Summon the household," he commanded.

George called Margaret; the two carried out the order.

In a semicircle the household grouped about their master; from Mrs.

Armitage at the one horn to George at the other they took their places--Mrs. Armitage, Clara, Ada, Mr. Fletcher, Frederick, Mary, Margaret, George.

Paper in hand Mr. Marrapit regarded them. He pointed at Frederick.

"That boy is sucking a disgusting peppermint. Disgorge."

Glad of relief, all eyes went upon the infamous youth. He purpled, struggled, gulped, swallowed--from his eyes tears streamed.

"Stiffneck!" Mr. Marrapit thundered. "Disgorge, I said. You are controlled by appet.i.te; your belly is your G.o.d."

"Well, I ain't 'ad no breakfast," Stiffneck answered fiercely. Like Miss Porter upon a similar occasion this boy was in great pain.

"And no breakfast shall you have until the Rose is restored.

Heartless! How can you eat while she, perhaps, does starve?" The angry man addressed the group. "These are the plans for her recovery. Give ear. You, vile boy, will rush to the dairy and order to be sent at once as much milk as Mrs. Armitage will command you. Mrs. Armitage, you with your maids--Fletcher, you with that boy, are the _intramural_ workers, the workers within the walls. George, Margaret, Miss Humfray- -_extra-mural_. Mrs. Armitage, with milk let every bowl and saucer be filled. Fletcher, at intervals of thirty feet along the wall let these be placed. If our wanderer is near she will be attracted. Margaret, with Miss Humfray to the village. Collect an army of village boys.

Describe our Rose. Set them to scour the countryside for her.

Yourselves join that search. Let the call of 'Rose! Rose!' echo through every lane. George, you also will scour far and wide. Upon your way despatch to me a cab from the station. I drive to the post- office to telephone for a detective. I have not yet decided which detective. It is a momentous matter." He flung out both hands. "To your tasks! Let zeal, let love for our lost one spur each to outvie the efforts of another. Fletcher, raise the window. That pungent boy has poisoned the air."

They trooped from him.

CHAPTER VI

A Detective At Herons' Holt.

I.

Bolt Buildings, Westminster, is a colossal red structure reared upon the site of frightened-looking little houses which fell beneath the breaker's hammer coincident with the falling in of their lease. Here you may have a complete floor of rooms at from three to five hundred a year; or, high under the roof, you may rent a single room for forty- five pounds.

Mr. David Brunger, Private Detective and Confidential Inquiry Agent, appeared on the books of the Bolt Buildings management as lessee of one of these single rooms. The appearance of his quarters as presented to the visitor had, however, a more pretentious aspect.

Shot to the topmost floor in the electric lift, pa.s.sing to the left and up five stairs in accordance with the lift boy's instructions, the intending client would be faced by three doors. Upon the first was inscribed:

DAVID BRUNGER (Clerks).

Upon the middle door:

DAVID BRUNGER (Private).

And upon the third:

DAVID BRUNGER (Office).

These signs of large staff and flourishing business were in keeping with the telling advertis.e.m.e.nts which Mr. David Brunger from time to time caused to appear in the Press.

"Watch your wife," said these advertis.e.m.e.nts, adding in smaller type that had the appearance of a whisper: "David Brunger will watch her."

"What keeps your husband late at office?" they continued. "David Brunger will find out. Confidential inquiry of every description promptly and cheaply carried out by David Brunger's large staff of skilled detectives (male and female). David Brunger has never failed.

David Brunger has restored thousands of pounds' worth of stolen property, countless missing relatives. David Brunger, 7 Bolt Buildings, Strange Street, S.W. Tel. 0000 West."

In London, with its myriad little eddies of crime and matrimonial infelicity, there is a neat sum to be made out of detective work.

Scotland Yard wolfs the greater part of these opportunities; there are established names that absorb much of the remainder. In the surplus, however, there is still a livelihood for the David Brungers. For if the Brungers do not go nosing after silken petticoats covering aristocratic but wanton legs; if the Brungers do not go flying across the Continent, nose to ground, notebook in hand, after the fine linen worn by my lord who is making holiday with something fair and frail under the quiet name of Mr. and Mrs. Brown; if the Brungers are not employed to draggle silken petticoats and fine linen through the Divorce Court, there is work for them among humbler washing baskets.

Jealous little shop-keepers have erring little wives, and common little wives have naughty little husbands: these come to your Brungers. And if, again, the Brungers do not dog the footsteps of your fifty-thousand-pound men, your embezzlement-over-a-period-of-ten-years men, your cheque-forging men--if the Brungers are invited to do no d.o.g.g.i.ng after these, there are pickings for them in less flashy crimes. Hiding in cupboard work while the sweated little shop- a.s.sistant slips a marked shilling from the till, hiding in bas.e.m.e.nt work while a trembling little figure creeps down and pilfers the stock--these are the pranks that come to your Brungers.

II.

While Mr. Marrapit at Herons' Holt was addressing to his household grouped about him his orders relative to the search for the Rose of Sharon, Mr. David Brunger at Bolt Buildings was entering the door marked "DAVID BRUNGER (Private)."

A telephone, a gas stove, a roll-top desk, an office chair, an armchair, a tiny deal table and a wooden-seated chair comprised the furniture of the apartment.

"For myself, I like severity and simplicity of surroundings," Mr.

David Brunger in the office chair would tell a client in the armchair.

"For _myself_--" and he would waggle his head towards the side walls with an air that seemed to imply prodigal luxury in the fittings of "(Clerks)" and "(Office)."

Entering the room Mr. Brunger unlocked the roll-top desk; discovered the stump of a half-smoked cigarette; lit it and began to compare the day's racing selections of "Head Lad," who imparted stable secrets to one tipster's organ, with those of "Trainer," who from the knowledge of his position very kindly gave one horse snips to another.

At ten o'clock the large staff of trained detectives (male and female), mentioned in Mr. Brunger's advertis.e.m.e.nts, came pouring up the stairs, knocked at the door and filed into the room. Its name was Issy Jago, a Jewish young gentleman aged seventeen, whose appearance testified in the highest manner to the considerable thrift he exercised in the matter of hair-dressers and toilet soap.

Mr. Issy Jago sat himself on the wooden-seated chair before the small deal table; got to work upon his finger-nails with the corner of an omnibus ticket; proceeded to study the police court reports in the _Daily Telegraph_.

It was his duty, whenever he noted plaintiffs or defendants to whom Mr. David Brunger's services might be of benefit, to post to them Mr.

David Brunger's card together with a selection of entirely unsolicited testimonials composed and dictated by Mr. Brunger for the occasion.

Also his duty to receive clients.

When a knock was heard at "DAVID BRUNGER (Clerks)" Mr. Issy Jago would slip through from "DAVID BRUNGER (Private)" to the tiny closet containing the cistern into which the door marked "DAVID BRUNGER (Clerks)" opened. Sliding through this door in such a manner as to give the client no glimpse of the interior, he would inform the visitor, with a confidential wink, "Fact is we have a client in there --a very well-known personage who does not wish it to be known that he is consulting us." The impressed caller would then be conducted into "DAVID BEUNGER (Private)."

Between "DAVID BRUNGER (Private)" and "DAVID BRUNGER (Office)," on the other hand, there was no communication. Indeed there was no room behind "(Office)": the door gave on to the roof. When, therefore, a hesitating client chose to knock at "(Office)" Mr. Issy Jago, emerging from "(Private)," would give the whispered information: "Fact is there's a very important private consultation going on in there-- Scotland Yard consulting us." And the impressed client would forthwith be led into "DAVID BRUNGER (Private)."

In either event, the client trapped, Mr. Issy Jago would skip into "(Clerks)" and sit on the cistern till Mr. Brunger's bell summoned him.