Meldon will be
down in a minute to take tea with you. If there isn't a pot of jam
down below--and it's likely you have it ate if there is--go into the
shop and ask for one. Is it strawberry you'd like, Mr. Meldon?"
"That or raspberry," said Meldon. "I don't care which. And now I want
to say a word or two to you."
"Come inside," said Doyle. "There isn't a soul in the bar, and maybe
you'd like a drop of something before your tea."
"I would not. You know very well, Doyle, that I never touch whisky
before my meals, especially when I've any business to do; and you ought
to be ashamed of yourself for offering it to me."
Doyle pushed forward a chair, selected another for himself, and sat
down opposite Meldon.
"Is it about the judge that's coming this evening that you wanted to
speak to me?"
"It is," said Meldon.
"I was thinking it might be. When you asked for the loan of my bicycle
this morning, and told me that you and the doctor was off to Donard in
a hurry, I made full sure it was him you were after. What have you
done with the doctor?"
"He'll be here in a few minutes," said Meldon, "and when he comes he'll
give you some chloride of lime and a bottle of Condy's Fluid.
Pages:
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227