I think that if you were
to call on him, and let him try on the hat that you have, it would
probably fit him."
The inspector scribbled ravenously in his notebook, and Mr.
Marchmont--an old admirer of Thorndyke's--leaned back in his chair,
chuckling softly and rubbing his hands.
"Then," continued my colleague, "there is in Rankin Street, Limehouse, a
cab-yard, where another Japanese gentleman named Itu is employed. You
might find out where Itu was the night before last; and if you should
chance to see a hansom cab there--number 22,481--have a good look at it.
In the frame of the number-plate you will find six small holes. Those
holes may have held brads, and the brads may have held a false number
card. At any rate, you might ascertain where that cab was at 11.30 the
night before last. That is all I have to suggest."
Mr. Loewe leaped from his chair. "Let us go--now--at once--there is no
time to be lost. A thousand thanks to you, doctor--a thousand million
thanks. Come!"
He seized the inspector by the arm and forcibly dragged him towards the
door, and a few moments later we heard the footsteps of our visitors
clattering down the stairs.
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