Detective Bones

Ali was the body-servant of Augustus Tibbetts, called by his intimates
"Bones," and he was arrayed in the costume which restaurateurs insist
is the everyday kit of a true Easterner--especially such Easterners as
serve after-dinner coffee.

Hamilton, not in the best of tempers--malaria leaves you that way--and
dazzled by this apparition in scarlet and gold, blinked.

"O man," he said testily in the Arabic of the Coast, "why do you
walk-in-the world dressed like a so-and-so?" (You can be very rude in
Arabic especially in Coast Arabic garnished with certain Swahili
phrases.) "Sir," said Ali, "these garmentures are expressly designated by
Tibbetti. Embellishments of oriferous metal give wealthiness of
appearance to subject, but attract juvenile research and investigation."

Hamilton glared through the window on to the front, where a small but
representative gathering of the juvenile research committee waited
patiently for the reappearance of one whom in their romantic fashion
they had termed "The Rajah of Bong."

Hamilton took the letter and opened it. It was, of course, from Bones,
and was extremely urgent. Thus it went:

"DEAR OLD PART.,--Ham I've had an offer of Browns you know the big big
Boot shop several boot shop all over London London. Old Browns going
out going out of the bisiness Sindicate trying to buy so I niped in for
105,000 pounds got lock stock and barrill baril. Sindicate awfuly sore
awfuley sore. All well here except poor young typewrighter cut her
finger finger sliceing bread doctor says not dangerus."

Hamilton breathed quickly. He gathered that Bones had bought a
boot-shop--even a collection of boot-shops--and he was conscious of the
horrible fact that Bones knew nothing about boots.