Page:Robert Barr - Lord Stranleigh Philanthropist.djvu/141

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WHEN SPADES WERE TRUMPS.
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is also a modern Argus (forgive the attempted pun). When it turns any of its hundred eyes upon the sudden augmentation of letters all re-addressed from London to one man at Lyme Regis, and calls in Sherlock Holmes, he will merely give a glance at E. J. Blake, and seeing his naïve, innocent cherubic face, will instantly pass him by, and speedily discover the real villain of the piece."

"I rather imagine," encouraged Blake, "that this plethora of letters will soon dwindle away, and then cease."

They were both startled by a sharp double knock at the drawing-room door, the way from the street being left open so that the postal emissaries could come right up the stair without a preliminary use of the front knocker. A postman and two assistants entered, each carrying a well-filled bag, the contents of which visibly augmented the mountain on the floor. The postman, standing erect, mopped his brow with a handkerchief, sighed deeply, and paused as if to gather strength for the return.

Stranleigh put his hand in his pocket, and drew out several golden sovereigns, which he presented to the postman.

"I wish," he said, "you'd divide that among all those who are doing this extra work."