The Fellowship of the Frog Read Online

Never had anything worth locking up," said Elk, fingering the articles on the tray. "Not a good pitch, this."

    "No," said the other; "too near to Scotland Yard, Mr. Elk."

    Elk cast a swift glance at the man.

    "Know me, do you?"

    "Most people do, don't they?" asked the other innocently.

    Elk took the pedlar in from the soles of his stout shoes to his soddened hat, and, with a nod, went on. The hawker looked after the detective until he was out of sight, and then, fixing a cover over his tray, strapped it tight and walked in the direction Elk had taken.

    Coming out of Maitlands to lunch, Ray Bennett saw a shabby and saturnine man standing on the edge of the pavement, but gave him no more than a passing glance. He, at any rate, did not know Elk and was quite unconscious of the fact that he was being followed to the little chophouse where Philo Johnson and he took their modest luncheon.

    In any circumstances Ray would not have observed the shadow, but to-day, in his condition of mind, he had no thought for anybody but himself, or any offence but the bearded and ancient Maitland's outrageous behaviour.

    "The old devil!" he said as he walked by Johnson's side. "To make a ten per cent cut in salaries and to start on me And this morning the papers say that he has given five thousand to the Northern Hospitals!"

    "He's a charitable cuss, and as to the cut, it was either that or standing you off," said Johnson cheerfully. "What's the use of kicking? Trade has been bad, and the stock market is as dead as Ptolemy. The old man wanted to put you off—said that you were superfluous anyway. If you'd only look on the bright side of things, Ray—"

    "Bright!" snorted the young man, his face going pink with anger. "I'm getting a boy's salary, and I want money mighty badly, Philo."

    Philo sighed, and for once his good-humoured face was clouded. Then it relaxed into a broad grin.

    "If I thought the same way as you, I'd go mad or turn into a first-class crook. I only earn about fifty per cent more than you, and yet the old man allows me to handle hundreds of thousands. It's too bad."

    Nevertheless, the "badness" of the parsimonious Maitland did not interfere with his appetite.

    "The art of being happy," he said as he pushed back his plate and lit a cigarette, "is to want nothing. Then you're always getting more than you need. How is your sister?"

    "She's all right," said Ray indifferently. "Ella's the same mind as you. It's easy to be a philosopher over other people's worries, Who's that disreputable bird?" he added, as a man seated himself at a table opposite to them.

    Philo fixed his glasses—he was a little near-sighted.

    "That's Elk—a Scotland Yard man," he said, and grinned at the new-corner, a recognition which, to Ray's annoyance—and his annoyance was tinged with uneasiness—brought the seedy man to their table.

    "This is my friend, Mr. Bennett—Inspector Elk, Ray."

    "Sergeant," suggested Elk dourly. "Fate has always been against me in the matter of promotion. Can't remember dates."

    So far from making a secret of his failure, Mr. Elk was never tired of discussing the cause.

    "Though why a man is a better thief-taker for knowin' when George Washington was born and when Napoleon Bonaparte died, is a mystery to me. Dine here every day, Mr. Bennett?"

    Ray nodded.

    "Know your father, I think—John Bennett of Horsham, isn't it? Thought so."

    In desperation Ray got up with an excuse and left them alone.

    "Nice boy, that," said Elk.

    They were nearing the imposing home of Maitlands Consolidated, when Mr. Johnson suddenly broke off in the middle of an interesting exposition of his philosophy and quickened his pace. On the pavement ahead of them he saw Ray Bennett, and by his side the slim figure of a girl. Their backs were toward the two men, but Elk guessed rightly when he decided that the girl was Ella Bennett. He had seen her twice before, and he had a wonderful memory for backs. Turning as the stout man came up to her, hat in hand, she greeted him with a quick and friendly smile.

    "This is an unexpected pleasure, Miss Bennett."

    There was a pink tinge to Johnson's homely face ("Sweet on her," thought Elk, interested), and his handshake was warm and something more than cordial.

    "I didn't intend coming to town, but father has gone off on one of his mysterious excursions," she said with a little laugh, "this time to the West. And, curiously enough, am absolutely sure I saw him on a 'bus just now, though his train left two hours ago."

    She glanced at Elk hovering in the background, and the sight of his glum countenance seemed to arouse some unpleasant memory, for the brightness went out of her face.

    "My friend, Mr.