At the same moment the train drew up at the platform, and, with a hurried hand-shake and hastily spoken thanks, I sprang from the dog-cart and darted into the station.
During the rather slow journey homewards I read over my notes and endeavoured to extract from the facts they set forth some significance other than that which lay on the surface, but without much success.

Then I fell to speculating on what Thorndyke would think of the evidence at the inquest and whether he would be satisfied with the information that I had collected.

These speculations lasted me, with occasional digressions, until I arrived at the Temple and ran up the stairs rather eagerly to my friend's chambers.
But here a disappointment awaited me.

The nest was empty with the exception of Polton, who appeared at the laboratory door in his white apron, with a pair of flat-nosed pliers in his hand.
"The Doctor has had to go down to Bristol to consult over an urgent case," he explained, "and Doctor Jervis has gone with him.

They'll be away a day or two, I expect, but the Doctor left this note for you." He took a letter from a shelf, where it had been stood conspicuously on edge, and handed it to me.