The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1915-07-16
CHAPTER VII-Continued.


That night, after calling upon the
detective, Mackenzie, took the sleep
ing car express to Euston. The res
aurant which Hutcheson had indicated
was. found, situated about halfway
up Westbourne Grove, nearly oppo-
site Whiteley's. 1t was soon after nine
o'clock when / entered the long shop
with its rows of handicapped tables
and greasy lounges of red plush. An
anhealthy-looking lad was sweeping
out the place with wet sawdust, and a
dig, dark-bearded, flabby-faced man in
shirt sleeves stood behind the small
counter polishing some forks.
Il wish to see Signor Ferrari," said,
addressing him.
There Is no Ferrari, he Is dead" re-
,ponded the man in broken English.
MY name is Odinzoff. ! bought the
place from madame"
Il have come to inquire after a
waiter you have in your service. an
servant for some years, and naturally
lake an interest In him..
"Santini?" he repeated. "Oh, you
mean Olinto? He is not here yet He
comes at ten o'clock"
This reply surprised me. l had ex-
pected the restaurant keeper to ex-
press regret at his disappearance, yet
he spoke as though he had been at
work as usual on the previous day.
You find Olinto a good servant, l
suppose?" / said, for want of some
thing else to say.
Excellent. The Italians are the best
walters in the world. / am Russian,
but dare not employ Russian wait.
sr. These English would not come to
my shop II did"
How long has Olinto been with
your" inquired
About a year-perhaps a little
more. trust him implicitly, and /
leave him In charge when | 60 away
Tor holidays. He does not get along
very well with the cook-who is Mi
anese. These Italians from different
provinces always quarrel" he added,
laughing. IF you live in Italy you
know that, no doubt"
laughed in chorus and then, glanc-
ing at my watch, said: I'll wait for
him, II he will be here at ten. I'd
much like to see him again"
The Russian was by no means non.
plused. but merely remarked: "He is
late sometimes, but not often. He lives
IN the other side of London-over at
Camberwell."
Suddenly side door opened and the
cook put his head In to speak with
his master in French. He was a typi
cal Italian, about forty, with dark mus
:aches turned upwards, and an easy
going, careless manner. Seeing me
however, and believing me to be Gus
toner, he turned and closed the dool
quickly. In that instant | noticed thu
1igh broadness OF his shoulders, ant
1is back struck me as strangely simi
lar to that of the man in brown whom
we had seen disappearing in Rannocl
wood
The suspicion held me breathless.
Presently Odinzoff went outside. car
cying with him two boards upon which
the menu of the "Eightpenny Lunch
con! This DAY." was written II
scrawly characters. and proceeded Il
affix them to the shop front.
This was my opportunity, and quicl
as thought moved towards where tn,
unhealthy youth was at work, ant
whispered:
I'll give you half-a-sovereign |
you'll answer my questions truthfully
Now, tell me, was the cook, the maj
I'VE just seen, here yesterday"
Emilio? Yes. sir"
WAS he here the day before?"
mo. sir. He's been away III TO
four days"
And your master?"
] had no time to put any furthe
question, for the Russian re-entered a
that moment, and the youth busted
himself rubbing the front Of the coun
ter In pretense that had not spoken
to him. Indeed, ] had some difficulty
In slipping the promised coin into hii
hand at a moment when his master
was not looking.
While l stood there a rather thin. re
specially dressed man entered and
seated himself upon one OF the piusf
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