Читать книгу Grey Shapes - E. Charles Vivian - Страница 4

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"A likeable chap," Gees observed to Miss Brandon after his caller had gone. "Public school type, but not too much so. And I've always had it in mind to have a look at the lake district, though he's rather out of it, by what he says. Still, I can move on, after killing the dog, or dogs. It's a dog killing his sheep, that's all."

"And you say he's going to pay you fifty pounds to go and kill it?" she asked, with patent incredulity.

"Ah, but he's got a bee about it being a ghost dog," Gees pointed out. "The local police have exonerated all the dogs in a twenty mile radius, he says—but I know from the time I spent on my father's Shropshire estates that if a dog gets the sheep-worrying habit, he'll travel far more than twenty miles in a night to gratify his tastes."

"Then—" she began, and stopped, thinking it over.

"It's got him down," Gees explained. "There was a point in our talk when I could see belief in the supernatural in his eyes. I don't wonder. He lives eight miles from a station, and his local is the best part of two miles from where he lives—Dowlandsbar, heaven save us!"

"His local?" she asked curiously.

"Short for pub—the nearest bar to lean against," he explained. "And his next door neighbor is half a mile away and named McCoul, so what have you? I start early in the morning the day after to-morrow."

"And—and I remain in charge here?"

"Obviously. Go over the inquiries as they come in each morning— open all the letters whether they're marked 'Personal' or no. I've no low intrigues on, just now, so you won't get shocked. Send editor's regrets in every case where you feel it's possible, and if you come across anything interesting write and say the matter is receiving consideration, and on receipt of our initial fee of two guineas we shall be happy to communicate further. Then send that particular inquiry on to me, and I'll see what I think of it. Of course, if Tyrrell's right—"

He broke off, and stood thoughtful by her desk for awhile.

"You mean, about the supernatural?" she inquired eventually.

"It would be sub-natural, if anything, in a case of this sort," he answered. "I'm going to spend the rest of the day in the British Museum library, Miss Brandon, and when you've finished discouraging the rest of our inquirers you can get on with your novel. One of these days, there may be some work for you again, and till then I like the decorative effect of having you here. If I'm not back at your usual time for closing down, just put the cover on your typewriter and go."

"Very good, Mr. Green. Do you—do you think this is super—no, sub-natural, as you called it?"

"I'll tell you when I come back from Dowlandsbar." he answered, "and since I don't start till the day after to-morrow, that's some while ahead. But a nice holiday in the lake district—or somewhere near it—before the end of September, and a check for fifty pounds for taking it—well, what have you? I'd be sub-natural myself if I didn't. See you tomorrow morning, if not this evening, Miss Brandon."

"Very good, Mr. Green."