CHAPTER XXIII

THE LANDLADY OF LITTLE SMITH STREET Garrowell's office proved to be up two flights of stairs in St. Martin's Lane. They were dark and dingy stairs, and none of the four men clambering up them noticed that an office-boy, rushing unceremoniously downward carried a small parcel with which he fled out of the door and away down the street. They were, indeed, thinking of Garrowell--and within five minutes they were all in his private room. For another five minutes Matherfield was explaining matters--explaining to an ob…