J. S. Fletcher

“ Linthwaite,' he continued. 'Only a week and you'll be free again.'
"‘Whose work is this, and what does it mean?’ I demanded. 'That,' he answered, 'is neither here nor there—so far as I'm concerned. Take my advice—and be as comfortable as you can!' After which, without as much as an if-you-please, he calmly took my hat and umbrella and walked off with them—three guineas' worth of property, which I've never seen since."
"Who the devil is this squint-eyed fellow?" growled Brixey.
"No more idea than the man in the moon!" said Linthwaite. "But he must be easily identified. ”

“ And the rest you know."
"It seems to me," observed Brixey, "that the first thing to do is to find out who this squint-eyed chap is!"
"The first thing to do," said Linthwaite, "is to discover the whole circumstances and situation of the woman known here as Mrs. Byfield. I don't know why I was kidnapped and locked up, but I am sure that it had something to do with the Byfield estate.
"Now, look here! You've evidently been going into the matter. Do you know when Mrs. Byfield’s son comes of age?"
"Yes," replied Brixey, with a significant nod. "He comes of age to-morrow." ”

“ Sorry to have had to make such a search—but, you know, everybody here believed you'd been murdered!"
"Oh, well, then, of course, you know who these Melsomes are," said Linthwaite, somewhat surprised by his nephew's drastic methods. "Um—I hope Gaffkin was careful in looking through my papers?"
"You can be sure he was," replied Brixey. "Yes, I worked out all about the Melsomes, and I also came to the conclusion that Mrs. Martin Byfield is really Mrs. Cradock Melsome. ”