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Michael looked at him and winked. 'That's cool,' said he. 'Next thing,
you'll ask me to help you out of the muddle. I know I'm emissary of
Providence, but not that kind! You get out of it yourself, like Aesop
and the other fellow. Must be dreadful muddle for young orphan o' forty;
leather business and all!'
'I am sure I don't know what you mean,' said Morris.
'Not sure I know myself,' said Michael. 'This is exc'lent vintage,
sir--exc'lent vintage. Nothing against the tipple. Only thing: here's a
valuable uncle disappeared. Now, what I want to know: where's valuable
uncle?'
'I have told you: he is at Browndean,' answered Morris, furtively wiping
his brow, for these repeated hints began to tell upon him cruelly.
'
Very easy say Brown--Browndee--no' so easy after all!' cried Michael.
Easy say; anything's easy say, when you can say it. What I don' like's
'
total disappearance of an uncle. Not businesslike.' And he wagged his
head.
'It is all perfectly simple,' returned Morris, with laborious calm.
'There is no mystery. He stays at Browndean, where he got a shake in the
accident.'
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