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50 thing is known. You might even learn something else in the process."

"Aye, aye, to be sure," acquiesced Mr Ing. "We'll do that at once. And then, Mr Carrados, just a parting hint. If you were taking up the case what would you do then?"

The temptation to be oracular was irresistible. Carrados smiled inwardly.

"I should try to find a tall, short-sighted, Welsh book-dealer who smokes perique tobacco, suffers from a weak chest, wears thick-soled boots and always carries an umbrella," he replied with impressive gravity.

Mr Ing, the saleroom porter, the young clerk and Mr Marrable all looked at each other and then began to repeat the varied attributes of the required individual.

"There's that—what's his name?—old chap with a red waistcoat who's always here," hopefully suggested the porter in an aside. "He wears specs, and I've never seen him without an umbrella."

"He's a Scotchman and stands about five feet three, fathead!" whispered the clerk. "Isn't Mr Powis Welsh, sir?"

"To be sure. Powis of Redmayne Street is the man," assented Mr Ing. "Isn't that correct, Mr Carrados?"

"I don't know," replied Carrados, "but if he answers to the description it probably is."

"And then?"

"Then I think I should call and encourage him to talk to me—about Shakespeare."

"Why, dash it, Carrados," cried Mr Marrable, "you said that you knew nothing of book-collecting and yet you seem to be aware that Powis specialises Shake-