"The
gall ought, of course, to be prepared, but we can filter it
ourselves--that is, if the butcher has any. We will try him, at any
rate."
He crossed the road towards the shop, over which the name "Felton"
appeared in gilt lettering, and, addressing himself to the proprietor,
who stood at the door, introduced himself and explained his wants.
"Ox-gall?" said the butcher. "No, sir, I haven't any just now; but I am
having a beast killed this afternoon, and I can let you have some then.
In fact," he added, after a pause, "as the matter is of importance, I
can have one killed at once if you wish it."
"That is very kind of you," said Thorndyke, "and it would greatly oblige
me. Is the beast perfectly healthy?"
"They're in splendid condition, sir. I picked them out of the herd
myself. But you shall see them--ay, and choose the one that you'd like
killed."
"You are really very good," said Thorndyke warmly. "I will just run into
the chemist's next door, and get a suitable bottle, and then I will
avail myself of your exceedingly kind offer."
He hurried into the chemist's shop, from which he presently emerged,
carrying a white paper parcel; and we then followed the butcher down a
narrow lane by the side of his shop.
Pages:
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196