Free Wallace at Bay by Alexander Wilson

in the same place.’
    ‘Of course,’ murmured Sir Leonard, ‘of course. They would hardly be likely to know a great deal about London, and information obtained by one regarding hotel accommodation would be sure to be handed on to another. Bill, you’re a genius. We’ll act on the idea at once.’
    He pressed one of the numerous buttons under the ledge of his desk. In a few moments there came a knock on the door and, in response to Sir Leonard’s invitation, a small, grey-haired man with piercing eyes entered the office.
    ‘I want a list of the people staying at the Canute Hotel in Waterloo Road, Maddison,’ Wallace told him. ‘No suspicion of any sort must be roused. The proprietor is an ex-service man and perfectly trustworthy, so you can take him into your confidence up to a point. Go yourself – he will probably let you have the visitors’ book,’ Maddison hurried from the room. ‘Is Cousins available?’ Sir Leonard asked Brien.
    The latter shook his head.
    ‘Not at the moment,’ he replied. ‘He has been in Dublin for the last ten days, as you know.’
    ‘But he was due back this morning.’
    ‘I had a telegram from him after you had gone to lunch, saying that he would be delayed another couple of days.’
    ‘That sounds as though he is hot on the track of that gang of sedition-mongers. It will be a feather in his cap if he can run them to earth. Well, I’ll have Carter for this Canute Job.’
    He pulled a large bowl of tobacco towards him, and proceeded to fill his pipe. Although Brien had watched the operation manyhundreds of times, it still fascinated him to observe the skill and celerity with which his friend performed it. The artificial hand was used in various little ways, it is true; was occasionally quite useful, but Sir Leonard could do most things with one hand. When he had lost his left arm he had immediately set to work to teach the remaining limb to do the work of both. His fingers had become so remarkably prehensile that their functions were almost akin to that of two or three ordinary fingers. In addition his upper arm and wrist were developed to the utmost. His arm was more powerful, in consequence, than the average man’s two, and he was able to perform athletic feats which were astonishing to those who knew of his disability but were not aware of how he had succeeded in overcoming it.
    His pipe loaded to his satisfaction, he carefully lit the tobacco until it was glowing evenly, then sat back, and puffed away contentedly.
    Brien remained chatting with Wallace until Maddison returned less than half an hour later. The latter placed a large book, the covers of which were somewhat the worse for wear, in front of Sir Leonard and opened it.
    ‘There are only eight guests staying in the hotel just now, sir,’ he stated. ‘As you know it is only a small, third-rate affair and when full, can only accommodate twenty-four or thereabouts.’ He proceeded to point out the names of the people then residing there. ‘I have been able to ascertain their occupations in all but two cases,’ he went on. ‘These – Mr and Mrs Curzon – are regular visitors. They come up from Devonshire half a dozen times a year. He is a farmer, and the proprietor assures me he looks like one.’
    ‘They can be washed out,’ murmured Brien, who was looking over Sir Leonard’s shoulder. The latter nodded.
    ‘Mr Spedding,’ went on Maddison pointing to the name, ‘has been there a month. He is a naval pensioner, and is undergoing some sort of treatment at St Thomas’s Hospital. Wilmer Peregrine Huckleberry Hawthorne—’
    ‘My hat! What a name!’ ejaculated Brien.
    ‘Is an American gentleman over from the States on business connected with steel cables.’
    ‘Only an American would have a name like that,’ observed Wallace, ‘and he can also be removed from the list of suspects.’ He looked up at Brien with a smile. ‘No mid-European anarchist, even if he were using a false name, would have