"In a side street, off Shaftesbury Avenue--tell you
more of it, later. Go on, Swallow."
"He paid off his driver there, and went in," continued Swallow. "I paid
mine and hung about--there's only one entrance and exit to that spot, as
you know. He came out again within five minutes, stuffing some letters
into his pocket. He walked away across Shaftesbury Avenue into Wardour
Street--there he went into a tobacconist's shop. Of course, I hung about
again. But this time he didn't come. So at last I walked in--to buy
something. He wasn't there!"
"Pooh!--he'd slipped out--walked out--when you weren't looking!" said
Gilling. "Why didn't you keep your eye on the ball, man?--you!"
"You be hanged!" retorted Swallow. "Never had an eyelash off that shop
door from the time he entered until I, too, entered."
"Then there's a side-door to that shop--into some alley or passage,"
said Gilling.
"Not that I could find," answered Swallow. "Might be at the rear of the
premises perhaps, but I couldn't ascertain, of course. Remember!--there's
another thing. He may have stopped on the premises. There's that in it.
However, I know the shop and the name."
"Why didn't you bring somebody else with you, to follow the man and the
luggage?" demanded Gilling, half-petulantly.
Swallow shook his head.
"There I made a mess of it, I confess," he admitted.
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