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Clouston, J. Storer (Joseph Storer), 1870-1944

"The Man from the Clouds"

That will account for my calling again."
"I must have detective instincts myself," I smiled. "I had already
thought of the same lie."
In fact it came in very handy no later than Mr. Bolton's departure that
night. The doctor wondered very much what the detective had to say to his
patient that took him so long to tell, and his curiosity was satisfied as
per arrangement.

X
WHERE THE CLUE LED

I saw nothing of Bolton next day, nor as a matter of fact did I expect
to. Indeed, when he called for me on the morning after, it was a good
deal sooner than I had counted on. The doctor was out, so no fable was
necessary, and I took him into the smoking room and offered him an
easy chair.
"Well, Mr. Bolton, any news?" I enquired.
He remained standing, and shook his head at the chair.
"I've no time to sit down," he said, "but I thought I'd just look in as
I passed."
There was a note in his voice that made me look at him sharply.
"Have you discovered anything?" I asked.
He nodded his head slowly.
"Not very much, Mr. Merton, but something."
Yet there seem to be a hint of jubilation in his eye.
"Won't you tell the other terrier?"
His face relaxed a little and for a moment I half thought he was going
to confide in me, and then he said,
"It's a little too soon to say much.


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