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Then he pressed one of a series of bells in the wall, and, through a tube, said to some one below:
“Have dinner half an hour earlier. And set places for two.”
“I didn’t think you’d jump into the thing with any such speed as this,” remarked Mr. Scanlon, highly gratified.
“It looks like a case which will admit of no delay,” replied Ashton-Kirk. “Something of a deadly nature is lowering over Schwartzberg; that’s plain enough. And that young Campe is so secretive about it is an indication that it’s one of those things which cannot well be spoken of to the police.”
CHAPTER III
IN WHICH THE SPECIAL DETECTIVE TAKES UP THE HUNT
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AFTER dinner, Ashton-Kirk smoked a cigar with his friend; then he retired to dress for the journey to Marlowe Furnace. When he reappeared he wore a rough, well-fitting grey suit, a grey flannel shirt, a cloth cap and a pair of springy tan shoes. In his hand he held a heavy hickory stick, which he balanced like a swordsman.
“You looked primed for work,” approved Bat Scanlon, as he stood up and buttoned his coat across his big chest.