Four short stories by the master of mystery.
eplied Dudley, "but that's not my handwriting."
Fittleworth reflected for a moment in a state bordering on panic.
"I'm afraid," said he, "there's something wrong; but we'd better run round to the Portrait Gallery and verify your statement."
They hurried out together, and turning round into St. Martin's Place, entered the Portrait Gallery, where a very brief investigation proved that Mr. Dudley had been engaged the whole of the previous day.
Fittleworth broke out into a cold sweat. It was evident that a fraud had been committed; and a most elaborate fraud for, among other matters, an attendance card must have been counterfeited. But what could be the object of that fraud? A copy, no matter how good, seemed hardly worth such deliberate and carefully-considered plans. Fittleworth and the painter looked at one another, and with the same horrible suspicion in both their minds they hurried away together to put it to the test.
As Fittleworth entered the small, isolated room where t
Freeman's arch style is perfect for these ingenious (if too dependent upon coincidence) little mysteries, the outcomes of which all border on the illicit.
This collection does not contain thirteen short stories and none of them feature John Thorndyke.
Half the book is taken up with the title story, a lively romp in which the hero nearly loses his job at the National Gallery in London after a valuable painting is stolen by ingenious thieves. When the painting is returned, the authorities are willing to forget the whole matter -- but he wonders why anybody should go to such trouble to steal the painting and then return it.
The resulting plot wil have you engrossed.