as civilised men, what do we do? I will show you. You take in a

paper?'

'I take,' said Mr. Godall solemnly, 'the best paper in the world,

the Standard.'

'Good,' resumed Somerset. 'I now hold it in my hand, the voice of

the world, a telephone repeating all men's wants. I open it, and

where my eye first falls--well, no, not Morrison's Pills--but here,

sure enough, and but a little above, I find the joint that I was

seeking; here is the weak spot in the armour of society. Here is a

want, a plaint, an offer of substantial gratitude: "TWO HUNDRED

POUNDS REWARD.--The above reward will be paid to any person giving

information as to the identity and whereabouts of a man observed

yesterday in the neighbourhood of the Green Park. He was over six

feet in height, with shoulders disproportionately broad, close

shaved, with black moustaches, and wearing a sealskin great-coat."

There, gentlemen, our fortune, if not made, is founded.'

'Do you then propose, dear boy, that we should turn detectives?'

inquired Challoner.

'Do I propose it? No, sir,' cried Somerset. 'It is reason,

destiny, the plain face of the world, that commands and imposes it.

Here all our merits tell; our manners, habit of the world, powers

of conversation, vast stores of unconnected knowledge, all that we

are and have builds up the character of the complete detective. It

is, in short, the only profession for a gentleman.'

'The proposition is perhaps excessive,' replied Challoner; 'for

hitherto I own I have regarded it as of all dirty, sneaking, and

ungentlemanly trades, the least and lowest.'

<<BackPagesTo menuNext>>