"What'd I tell you, mister?" exclaimed Melky, as Lauriston joined him, the
shadowing plain-clothes man in his rear. "D'ye see this?" He pointed to an
advertisement in his own paper, which he had marked with blue pencil.
"There y'are, Mr. Lauriston!--that identical old book what's inside the
parlour--advertised for--handsome reward, too, in the _Daily
Telegraph_! Didn't I say we'd hear more of it?"
Lauriston pulled out the _Times_ and indicated the Personal Column.
"It's there, too," he said. "This man, Mr. Levendale, is evidently very
anxious to recover his book. And he's lost no time in advertising for it,
either! But--however did it get to Multenius's?
"Mister!" said Melky, solemnly. "We'll have to speak to the police--now.
There's going to be a fine clue in that there book. I didn't mean to say
nothing to the police about it, just yet, but after this here
advertisement, t'ain't no use keeping the thing to ourselves. Come on
round to the police-station."
"That's just where I was going," replied Lauriston. "Let's get hold of
Ayscough."
Ayscough was standing just inside the police-station when they went up the
steps; he, too, had a newspaper in his hands, and at sight of them he
beckoned them to follow him into an office in which two or three other
police officials were talking.
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