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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"The Golden Scorpion"


I next destroyed all evidences of identity and left the place in a
neat condition. I extinguished the lamp, went out and locked the door
behind me, and carrying a travelling-grip and a cane I set off for my
new hotel.
Charles Malet had disappeared!


CHAPTER IV
I MEET AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE

On the corner opposite Dr. Stuart's establishment stood a house which
was "to be let or sold." From the estate-agent whose name appeared
upon the notice-board I obtained the keys--and had a duplicate made of
that which opened the front door. It was a simple matter, and the
locksmith returned both keys to me within an hour. I informed the
agent that the house would not suit me.
Nevertheless, having bolted the door, in order that prospective
purchasers might not surprise me, I "camped out" in an upper room all
day, watching from behind the screen of trees all who came to the house
of Dr. Stuart. Dusk found me still at my post, armed with a pair of
good binoculars. Every patient who presented himself I scrutinized
carefully, and finding as the darkness grew that it became increasingly
difficult to discern the features of visitors, I descended to the front
garden and resumed my watch from the lower branches of a tree which
stood some twenty feet from the roadway.
At selected intervals I crept from my post and surveyed the lane upon
which the window of the consulting-room opened and also the path
leading to the tradesmen's entrance, from which one might look across
the lawn and in at the open study windows.


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