"
"Still, you know," the A.P.M. objected, this man appears to have
the most excellent character. He's got a clean sheet; he's never
gone absent before. And he's been out with his battery almost
since the beginning of the war."
"I'm not making any charge against him as yet," answered the
detective, picking up his hat, "but it would interest me very
much, very much indeed, Captain Beardiston, to have five minutes'
chat with this gunner. And so I ask you to keep a sharp lookout
for a man answering to his description, and if you come across
him, freeze on to him hard, and give me a ring on the telephone."
"Right you are," said the officer, "I'll hold him for you, Mr.
Marigold. But I hope your suspicions are not well-founded."
For a brief moment the detective became a human being.
"And so do I, if you want to know," he said. "One can forgive
those lads who are fighting out there almost anything. I've got a
boy in France myself!"
A little sigh escaped him, and then Mr. Marigold remembered "The
Yard."
"I'll bid you good-day!" he added in his most official voice and
took his leave.
He walked down the steps by the Duke of York's column and through
the Horse Guards into Whitehall, seemingly busy with his own
thoughts. A sprucely dressed gentleman who was engaged in the
exciting and lucrative sport of war profiteering turned color and
hastily swerved out towards the Park as he saw the detective
crossing the Horse Guards' Parade.
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