The Man Who Knew by Fred M. White

LASHBROOK dropped the revolver into his overcoat pocket as soon as he had laid hands upon it, his idea being that the less the workmen saw of it, the better. And then, as he strode along Mansfield street he hesitated just a moment. Would it now, perhaps, be better to go back and warn the workers to say nothing of their discovery? Perhaps, on the other hand, it would be just as well to do nothing of the sort, because it was long odds that those simple labourers working on the drain would not dream of connecting the slim weapon in Lashbrook's pocket with the crime that had taken place in the vicinity not so many hours before.

Therefore Lashbrook went quietly on his way, though he knew perfectly well that, so far as his night's work was concerned, he was merely wasting his time. As a matter of fact, the special duty to which he had been allotted was to keep his eye upon a block of flats further along the street, where it was suspected that a resident was running a gambling club. It had been on Lashbrook's own information that the authorities were acting, so that he had been given a free hand to carry on his investigations. And he knew perfectly well that, with those workmen so close at hand there would be no particular activity in the suspected flat that night. Lashbrook felt that he was dealing with an exceedingly cunning combination of criminals, and it was only common sense to come to the conclusion that they would regard those workmen as part of a ruse in connection with the police.