The Vanished Millionaire
"Don't apologize, Mr. Harbord," said the little man, cheerfully. "I shall have to find some one else, that is all."
We walked into the breakfast-room, and a few minutes later Ransome appeared with a great bundle of letters and telegrams in his hand. He said not a word to any of us, but dropped into a chair, tearing open the envelopes and glancing at their contents. His face grew darker as he read, and once he thumped his hand upon the table with a crash that set the china jingling.
"Well, Inspector?" he said at last.
The little detective's head shook out a negative.
"Perhaps you require an incentive," he sneered. "Is it a matter of a reward?"
"No, Mr. Ransome; but it is becoming one of my personal reputation."
"Then, by thunder, you are in danger of losing it. Why don't you and your friend hustle instead of loitering around as if you were paid by the job? I tell you, man, there are thousands, hundreds of thousands melting,