"Come here, my son, and look
at what I've just found."
He drew Copplestone away to a quiet corner and pointed out an old
playbill, framed and hung on the wall. Copplestone stared at it and saw
nothing but the title of a well-known comedy, the names of one or two
fairly celebrated actors and actresses and the usual particulars which
appear on all similar announcements.
"Well?" he asked. "What of this?"
"That!" replied Gilling, flicking the tip of his finger on a line in the
bill. "That my boy!"
Copplestone looked again. He started at what he read.
_Margaret Sayers_.......MISS ADELA CHATFIELD.
"And now look at that!" continued Gilling, with an accentuation of his
triumphal note. "See! These people were here for a fortnight--from
October 3rd to 17th--1912. Therefore--if Peter Chatfield brought Marston
Greyle to Bristol on October 6th, Peter Chatfield's daughter would also
be in the town!"
Copplestone looked over the bill again, rapidly realizing possibilities.
"Would Chatfield know that?" he asked reflectively.
"It's only likely that he would," replied Gilling. "Even if father and
daughter don't quite hit things off in their tastes, it's only reasonable
to suppose that Peter would usually know his daughter's whereabouts. And
if he brought Greyle here, ill, and they had to stop, it's only likely
that Peter would turn to his daughter for help.
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