Edgar Wallace

Edgar Wallace

Summary

Portrait of Edgar Wallace Edgar Wallace The Just Men of Cordova — III. (1917)

Sir Isaac fingered his moustache nervously. “It’s all rot to say they don’t exist; we know what they did six years ago, and I don’t like this other man a bit,” he grumbled.
“Don’t like which other man?”
“This interfering policeman,” he replied irritably. “Can’t he be squared?”
“The constable?”
“Yes; you can square constables, I suppose, if you can square sergeants.” Sir Isaac Tramber had the gift of heavy sarcasm.
Black stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Curiously enough,” he said, “I have never thought of that. I think we can try.” He glanced at his watch.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Edgar Wallace Edgar Wallace The Just Men of Cordova — III. (1917)

Black shrugged his shoulders. “I mean that there is no such organization as the Four Just Men. They are a myth. They have no existence. It is too melodramatic for words. Imagine four people gathered together to correct the laws of England. It savours more of the sensational novel than of real life.” He laughed with apparent ease. “These things,” he said, wagging his finger jocosely at the perturbed baronet, “do not happen in Pimlico. No, I suspect that our constable, the man I spoke to you about, is at the bottom of it.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Edgar Wallace Edgar Wallace The Just Men of Cordova — III. (1917)

The descent to hell is proverbially easy, and Sir Isaac Tramber’s descent was facilitated by that streak of decadence which had made itself apparent even in his early youth. As he sat at one end of the board-table, both hands stuffed into his trousers pockets, his head on one side like a perky bird, he proved no mean man of business, as Black had discovered earlier in their acquaintanceship.
“We are all here now, I think,” said Black, looking humorously at his companion. They had left Sparks and his friend in a room below.
Source: Wikisource

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