I really fancied I had a clew to the Steynholme murderer.

And where do you think it ended?
In the loft of your club-room, Mr.Tomlin.In a box of old clothes at that.

Silly, isn't it ?" "Wot! Them amatoor play-hactin' things ?" "Exactly." Elkin grunted, though intending to laugh.
"Not so sharp for a London 'tec, I must say," he cried.

"Why, those props have been there since before Christmas." "Yes.

I know now," was the downcast reply.