Elk 01 The Fellowship of the Frog by Edgar Wallace

morning when he kissed me, his breath smelt of whisky—he never used to drink. This new life is ruining him—why should he take a false name if…if the work he is doing is quite straight?”
    She had ceased addressing him as “Mr. Gordon.” The compromise of calling him by no name at all was very pleasant to Dick Gordon, because he recognized that it was a compromise. The day was hot and the sky cloudless. Ella had made arrangements to serve tea on the lawn, and she found two eager helpers in Dick and Johnson, galvanized to radiant activity by the opportunity of assisting. The boy’s attitude remained antagonistic, and after a few futile attempts to overcome this, Dick gave it up.
    Even the presence of his father, who had kept aloof from the party al! afternoon, brought no change for the better.
    “The worst of being a policeman is that you’re always on duty,” he said during the meal. “I suppose you’re storing every scrap of talk in your mind, in ease you have to use it.”
    Dick folded a thin slice of bread and butter very deliberately before he replied.
    “I have certainly a good memory,” he said. “It helps me to forget. It also helps me keep silent in circumstances which are very difficult and trying.”
    Suddenly Ray spun round in his chair.
    “I told you he was on duty!” he cried triumphantly. “Look! There’s the chief of the spy corps! The faithful Elk!”
    Dick looked in astonishment. He had left Elk on the point of going north to follow up a new Frog clue that had come to light. And there he was, his hands resting on the gate, his chin on his chest, gazing mournfully over his glasses at the group.
    “Can I come in, Mr. Bennett?”
    John Bennett, alert and watchful, beckoned.
    “Happened to be round about here, so I thought I’d call. Good afternoon, miss—good afternoon, Mr. Johnson.”
    “Give Sergeant Elk your chair,” growled John Bennett, and his son rose with a scowl.
    “Inspector,” said Elk. “No, I’d rather stand, mister. Stand and grow good, eh? Yes, I’m Inspector. I don’t realize it myself sometimes, especially when the men salute me—forget to salute ‘em back. Now, in America I believe patrol men salute sergeants. That’s as it should be.”
    His sad eyes moved from one to the other.
    “I suppose your promotion has made a lot of crooks very scared, Elk?” sneered Ray.
    “Why, yes. I believe it has. Especially the amatchoors,” said Elk. “The crooks that are only fly-nuts. The fancy crooks, who think they know it all, and will go on thinking so till one day somebody says, ‘Get your hat—the chief wants you!’ Otherwise,” confessed Elk modestly, “the news has created no sensation, and London is just as full as ever of tale-pitchers who’ll let you distribute their money amongst the poor if you’ll only loan ‘em a hundred to prove your confidence. And,” Elk continued after a moment’s cogitation, “there’s nearly as many dud prize-fighters living on blackmail an’ robbery, an’ almost as many beautiful young ladies running faro parlours and dance emporiums.”
    Ray’s face went a dull red, and if looks could blast, Inspector Elk’s friends would have been speaking of him in hushed tones.
    Only then did he turn his attention to Dick Gordon.
    “I was wondering, Captain, if I could have a day off next week—I’ve a little family trouble.”
    Dick, who did not even know that his friend had a family was startled.
    “I’m sorry to hear that, Elk,” he said sympathetically. Elk sighed.
    “It’s hard on me,” he said, “but I feel I ought to tell you, if you’ll excuse me, Miss Bennett?”
    Dick rose and followed the detective to the gate, and then Elk spoke in a low tone.
    “Lord Farmley’s house was burgled at one o’clock this morning, and the Frogs have got away with the draft treaty!”
    Watching the two furtively, the girl saw nothing in Dick Gordon’s demeanour to indicate that he had received any news which was of