The Daffodil Mystery | Page 4

them with invisible soap.
CHAPTER II
THE HUNTER DECLINES HIS QUARRY

"This is Mr. Milburgh," said Lyne awkwardly.
If Mr. Milburgh had heard the last words of his employer, his face did
not betray the fact. His smile was set, and not only curved the lips but
filled the large, lustreless eyes. Tarling gave him a rapid survey and
drew his own conclusions. The man was a born lackey, plump of face,
bald of head, and bent of shoulder, as though he lived in a perpetual
gesture of abasement.
"Shut the door, Milburgh, and sit down. This is Mr. Tarling. Er--Mr.
Tarling is--er--a detective."
"Indeed, sir?"
Milburgh bent a deferential head in the direction of Tarling, and the
detective, watching for some change in colour, some twist of face--any
of those signs which had so often betrayed to him the convicted
wrongdoer--looked in vain.
"A dangerous man," he thought.
He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see what impression the man
had made upon Ling Chu. To the ordinary eye Ling Chu remained an
impassive observer. But Tarling saw that faint curl of lip, an almost
imperceptible twitch of the nostrils, which invariably showed on the
face of his attendant when he "smelt" a criminal.
"Mr. Tarling is a detective," repeated Lyne. "He is a gentleman I heard
about when I was in China--you know I was in China for three months,
when I made my tour round the world?" he asked Tarling.
Tarling nodded.
"Oh yes, I know," he said. "You stayed at the Bund Hotel. You spent a
great deal of time in the native quarter, and you had rather an
unpleasant experience as the result of making an experiment in opium
smoking."

Lyne's face went red, and then he laughed.
"You know more about me than I know about you, Tarling," he said,
with a note of asperity in his voice, and turned again to his subordinate.
"I have reason to believe that there has been money stolen in this
business by one of my cashiers," he said.
"Impossible, sir!" said the shocked Mr. Milburgh. "Wholly impossible!
Who could have done it? And how clever of you to have found it out,
sir! I always say that you see what we old ones overlook even though
it's right under our noses!"
Mr. Lyne smiled complacently.
"It will interest you to know, Mr. Tarling," he said, "that I myself have
some knowledge of and acquaintance with the criminal classes. In fact,
there is one unfortunate protégé of mine whom I have tried very hard to
reform for the past four years, who is coming out of prison in a couple
of days. I took up this work," he said modestly, "because I feel it is the
duty of us who are in a more fortunate position, to help those who have
not had a chance in the cruel competition of the world."
Tarling was not impressed.
"Do you know the person who has been robbing you?" he asked.
"I have reason to believe it is a girl whom I have summarily dismissed
to-night, and whom I wish you to watch."
The detective nodded.
"This is rather a primitive business," he said with the first faint hint of a
smile he had shown. "Haven't you your own shop detective who could
take that job in hand? Petty larceny is hardly in my line. I understood
that this was bigger work----"
He stopped, because it was obviously impossible to explain just why he
had thought as much, in the presence of the man whose conduct,

originally, had been the subject of his inquiries.
"To you it may seem a small matter. To me, it is very important," said
Mr. Lyne profoundly. "Here is a girl, highly respected by all her
companions and consequently a great influence on their morals, who,
as I have reason to believe, has steadily and persistently falsified my
books, taking money from the firm, and at the same time has secured
the goodwill of all with whom she has been brought into contact.
Obviously she is more dangerous than another individual who
succumbs to a sudden temptation. It may be necessary to make an
example of this girl, but I want you clearly to understand, Mr. Tarling,
that I have not sufficient evidence to convict her; otherwise I might not
have called you in."
"You want me to get the evidence, eh?" said Tarling curiously.
"Who is the lady, may I venture to ask, sir?"
It was Milburgh who interposed the question.
"Miss Rider," replied Lyne.
"Miss Rider!"
Milburgh's face took on a look of blank surprise, as he gasped the
words.
"Miss Rider--oh, no, impossible!"
"Why impossible?" demanded Mr. Lyne sharply.
"Well, sir, I meant----" stammered the manager, "it is so unlikely--she
is such a