'
'In that case, my dear Podgers, you will return to the residence of
our friend Summertrees, and get together for me in a bundle all of
yesterday's morning and evening papers, that were delivered to the
house. Can you do that, or are they mixed up in a heap in the coal
cellar?'
'I can do it, sir. I have instructions to place each day's papers in a
pile by itself in case they should be wanted again. There is always
one week's supply in the cellar, and we sell the papers of the week
before to the rag men.'
'Excellent. Well, take the risk of abstracting one day's journals, and
have them ready for me. I will call upon you at half-past three
o'clock exactly, and then I want you to take me upstairs to the
clerk's bedroom in the third story, which I suppose is not locked
during the daytime?'
'No, sir, it is not.'
With this the patient Podgers took his departure. Spenser Hale rose
when his assistant left.
'Anything further I can do?' he asked.
'Yes; give me the address of the shop in Tottenham Court Road. Do you
happen to have about you one of those new five-shilling pieces which
you believe to be illegally coined?'
He opened his pocket-book, took out the bit of white metal, and handed
it to me.
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