Part 28 (1/2)

There was a short pause: Joyce pushed away her plate and leaned forward, her eyes fixed on mine; while Tommy stretched out his arm and filled up my gla.s.s.

”Go on,” he said. ”What's happened?”

In as few words as possible I told them about my interview with Sonia, and showed them the letter which she had brought me from McMurtrie.

They both read it--Joyce first and then Tommy, the latter tossing it back with a grunt that was more eloquent than any possible comment.

”It's too polite,” he said. ”It's too d.a.m.n' polite altogether. You can see they're up to some mischief.”

”I am afraid they are, Tommy,” I said; ”and it strikes me that it must be fairly useful mischief if we're right about Mr. Bruce Latimer. By the way, does Joyce know?”

Tommy nodded. ”She's right up to date: I've told her everything. The question is, how much has that affair got to do with us? It's quite possible, if they're the sort of scoundrels they seem to be, that they might be up against the Secret Service in some way quite apart from their dealings with you.”

”By Jove, Tommy!” I exclaimed, ”I never thought of that. One's inclined to get a bit egotistical when one's an escaped murderer.”

”It was Joyce's idea,” admitted Tommy modestly, ”but it's quite likely there's something in it. Of course we've no proof at present one way or the other. What do you think this girl--what's her name--Sonia--means to do?”

I shrugged my shoulders. ”Goodness knows,” I said. ”It looks as if there was a chance of making a big immediate profit on my invention, and that she intended me to scoop it in instead of her father and McMurtrie. I can't think of anything else.”

Tommy pulled up a fresh plate and helped himself to some cheese.

”She must be pretty keen on you,” he observed.

”Well, you needn't rub it in, Tommy,” I said. ”I feel quite enough of a cad as it is.”

”You're not,” interrupted Joyce indignantly. ”If she really loves you, of course she wants to help you whether you love her or not.”

”Still, she'll expect a _quid pro quo_,” persisted Tommy.

”Then it isn't love,” returned Joyce scornfully, ”and in that case there's no need to bother about her.”

This seemed a most logical point of view, and I determined to adopt it for the future if my conscience would allow me.

”What about your invention?” asked Tommy. ”How long will it take you to work it out?”

”Well, as a matter of fact,” I said, ”it is worked out--as much as any invention can be without being put to a practical test. I was just on that when the smash came. I had actually made some of the powder and proved its power, but I'd never tried it on what one might call a working basis. If they've given me all the things I want, I don't see any reason why I shouldn't fix it up in two or three days. There's no real difficulty in its manufacture. I wasn't too definite with McMurtrie. I thought it best to give myself a little margin.”

Tommy nodded. ”You've handled the whole thing splendidly up till now,” he said. ”I rather think it's the ticklish part that's coming, though.” Then he paused. ”Look here!” he added suddenly. ”I've got a great notion. Why shouldn't we run down tomorrow in the _Betty_ and have a squint at this place of yours? There's nothing like taking a few soundings when you're not too sure about things.”

I drew in a deep breath. ”I'd love to, Tommy,” I said, ”but it's rather asking for trouble, isn't it? Suppose there was still someone about there? If McMurtrie had the faintest idea I'd given away the show--”

”He won't,” interrupted Tommy; ”he can't. We'll take precious good care of that. Listen here: I've got the whole thing mapped out in my mind. The _Betty's_ at Leigh, where I laid her up yesterday. I had a seven-horse-power Kelvin engine put in her last year, so we can get up, whatever the wind is--I know the tide will be about right. Well, my idea is that we three go down to Leigh tomorrow morning and take her up to this place Cunnock Creek, or somewhere near. Then if it's all serene you can land and have a look round; if there seems to be any one about we can just push off again. Joyce and I won't show up at all, anyway: we'll stop on board and let you do the scouting.”

”Yes, yes,” exclaimed Joyce, her eyes s.h.i.+ning eagerly. ”Let's go. It can't do any harm, and you might find out all sorts of useful things.”

”Besides,” added Tommy, ”it would be the deuce of a day, and it's a long time since any of us had a good day, eh, Joyce?”

”Three years,” said Joyce quietly.

That decided me. ”Right you are,” I said. ”You're--you're something like pals, you two.”