the inn. It drew up at the door, and there was the sound of people alighting.

There seemed to be two of them, men in aquascutums and tweed caps.

 

Ten minutes later the innkeeper slipped into the room, his eyes bright with

excitement.

 

“There’s two chaps below looking for you,” he whispered. “They’re in the

dining-room having whiskies-and-sodas. They asked about you and said they had

hoped to meet you here. Oh! and they described you jolly well, down to your

boots and shirt. I told them you had been here last night and had gone off on a

motor bicycle this morning, and one of the chaps swore like a navvy.”

 

I made him tell me what they looked like. One was a dark-eyed thin fellow with

bushy eyebrows, the other was always smiling and lisped in his talk. Neither was

any kind of foreigner; on this my young friend was positive.

 

I took a bit of paper and wrote these words in German as if they were part of a

letter—

 

... “Black Stone. Scudder had got on to this, but he could not act for a

fortnight. I doubt if I can do any good now, especially as Karolides is

uncertain about his plans. But if Mr T. advises I will do the best

 

I....”