"You said he had a pal," I observed, sinking deeper into the collar
of my coat. "Haven't you got a photograph of him?"
The pale clerk gave such a sickly smile, I could have smacked some
blood into his pasty face.
"You mean Bunny?" said the familiar fellow. "No, sir, he'd be out
of place; we've only room for real criminals here. Bunny was neither
one thing nor the other. He could follow Raffles, but that's all. he
could do. He was no good on his own. Even when he put up the
low-down job of robbing his old 'ome, it's believed he hadn't the
'eart to take the stuff away, and Raffles had to break in a second
time for it. No, sir, we don't bother our heads about Bunny; we
shall never hear no more of 'im. He was a harmless sort of rotter,
if you awsk me."
I had not asked him, and I was almost foaming under the respirator
that I was making of my overcoat collar. I only hoped that Raffles
would say something, and he did.
"The only case I remember anything about," he remarked, tapping the
clamped chest with his umbrella, "was this; and that time, at all.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293