CHAPTER VI.—ON THE TRACK OF THE THUG.A WEEK later, about nine o’clock in the morning, Chief Inspector Stone was alone in his room in Scotland Yard. He was reading a copy of that morning’s issue of the Daily Messenger, and from the frowning expression upon his face the perusal was not altogether an agreeable one.
From time to time he muttered angrily, “Incompetent!. .. incapable!. .. unworthy of the public confidence!. .. undeserving of the high salaries they receive!” He rolled his eyes round comically. “High salaries! Then all these years I must have been forgotten upon a lot of the pay-days!”
He read on: “Eight days have now passed and the triple murderer is still at large!… A veritable beast of the jungle! The shadow of a dreadful death looms on us all!. .. Every day, every hour may c
