"Sh--h--h!" said Pillingshot mysteriously.
Scott's interest was aroused. When his fag was making tea in the afternoon, he questioned him again.
"Out with it," he said. "What's the point of all this silent mystery business?"
"Sherlock Holmes never gave anything away."
"So have you," replied Scott crisply, "and I'll smite them in half a second."
Pillingshot sighed resignedly, and produced an envelope. From this he poured some dried mud.
"Here, steady on with my table-cloth," said Scott. "What's this?"
"Eighteen different kinds of mud about here," he said patronisingly. "This is flower-bed mud from the house front-garden."
"Sh--h--h!" said Pillingshot, and glided out of the room.
"Well?" asked Scott next day. "Clues pouring in all right?"
Pillingshot walked silently to the door and flung it open. He looked up and down the passage. Then he closed the door and returned to the table, where he took from his waistcoat-pocket a used match.
"A clue," said Pillingshot. "See anything queer about it? See that rummy brown stain on it?"
"What's the good of blood? There's been no murder."
"You must think of everything. The worst mistake a detective can make is to get switched off on to another track while he's working on a case. This match is a clue to something else. You can't work on it."
"Don't be discouraged. You're doing fine."
"I know," said Pillingshot. "I shall find that quid all right."
Pillingshot shuffled, then rose to a point of order.
"I've been reading those Sherlock Holmes stories," he said, "and Sherlock Holmes always got a fee if he brought a thing off. I think I ought to, too."
"Done you good. Supplied you with a serious interest in life. Well, I expect Evans will give you something--a jewelled snuff-box or something--if you pull the thing off."
"Well, he'll buy you a tea or something."
"He won't. He's not going to break the quid. He's saving up for a camera."
"Well, what are you going to do about it?"
"_You_ put me on to the case," he said casually.
"What! If you think I'm going to squander----"
"I think you ought to let me off fagging for the rest of the term."
"Don't mention it. You haven't found the quid yet."
After breakfast next day Scott was seated in his study when Pillingshot entered.