The Camera Fiend

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Hornung Ernest William. The Camera Fiend

A CONSCIENTIOUS ASS

A BOY ABOUT TOWN

HIS PEOPLE

A GRIM SAMARITAN

THE GLASS EYE

AN AWAKENING

BLOOD-GUILTY

POINTS OF VIEW

MR. EUGENE THRUSH

SECOND THOUGHTS

ON PAROLE

HUNTING WITH THE HOUNDS

BOY AND GIRL

BEFORE THE STORM

A LIKELY STORY

MALINGERING

ON THE TRACK OF THE TRUTH

A THIRD CASE

THE FOURTH CASE

WHAT THE THAMES GAVE UP

AFTER THE FAIR

THE SECRET OF THE CAMERA

Отрывок из книги

The young Westminsters had not come in when Pocket finally cast up in St. John's Wood Park. But their mother was at home, and she gave the boy a cup of tepid tea out of a silver tea-pot in the drawing-room. Mrs. Knaggs was a large lady who spoke her mind with much freedom, at all events to the young. She remarked how much Upton (so she addressed him) had altered; but her tone left Pocket in doubt as to whether any improvement was implied. She for one did not approve of his luncheon in Oxford Street, much less of the way he had spent a summer's afternoon; indeed, she rather wondered at his being allowed alone in London at all. Pocket, who could sometimes shine in conversation with his elders, at once reminded Mrs. Knaggs that her own Westminster boys were allowed alone in London every day of their lives. But Mrs. Knaggs said that was a very different thing, and that she thought Pocket's public school must be very different from Westminster. Pocket bridled, but behaved himself; he knew where he wanted to stay the night, and got as far towards inviting himself as to enlarge upon Mr. Coverley's misfortune and his own disappointment. Mrs. Knaggs in her turn did ask him where he meant to and even the conscientious Pocket caught himself declaring he had no idea. Then the boys were heard returning, and Mrs. Knaggs said of course he would stop to schoolroom supper, and Pocket thanked her as properly as though it were the invitation he made sure must follow. After all, Vivian Knaggs had stayed at Pocket's three weeks one Christmas, and Guy a fortnight at Easter; the boys themselves would think of that; it was not a matter to broach to them, or one to worry about, prematurely.

Vivian and Guy were respectively rather older and rather younger than Pocket, and they came in looking very spruce, the one in his Eton jacket, the other in tails, but both in shiny toppers that excited an unworthy prejudice in the wearer of the green tie with red spots. They seemed very glad to see him, however, and the stiffness was wearing off even before Pocket produced his revolver in the basement room where the two Westminsters prepared their lessons and had their evening meal.

.....

“What are you doing here?” inquired this policeman, striding upon Pocket with inexorable tread.

“No harm, I hope,” replied our hero humbly, but with unusual readiness.

.....