Sharpin that he is suspended till further
notice.
Yours, FRANCIS THEAKSTONE.
FROM SERGEANT BULMER TO CHIEF INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE.
London, July 10th.
INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE--Your letter and inclosure came safe to
hand. Wise men, they say, may always learn something even from a
fool. By the time I had got through Sharpin's maundering report
of his own folly, I saw my way clear enough to the end of the
Rutherford Street case, just as you thought I should. In half an
hour's time I was at the house. The first person I saw there was
Mr. Sharpin himself.
"Have you come to help me?" says he.
"Not exactly," says I. "I've come to tell you that you are
suspended till further notice."
"Very good," says he, not taken down by so much as a single peg
in his own estimation. "I thought you would be jealous of me.
It's very natural and I don't blame you. Walk in, pray, and make
yourself at home. I'm off to do a little detective business on my
own account, in the neighborhood of the Regent's Park. Ta--ta,
sergeant, ta--ta!"
With those words he took himself out of the way, which was
exactly what I wanted him to do.
As soon as the maid-servant had shut the door, I told her to
inform her master that I wanted to say a word to him in private.
She showed me into the parlor behind the shop, and there was Mr.
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