Part 19 (1/2)

”I must admit,” Leatham concluded, ”that everything appeared very sound and businesslike. I had a look everywhere in that shed and enclosure, and I saw nothing even remotely suspicious. The manager's manner, too, was normal and it seems to me that either he's a jolly good actor or you two chaps are on a wild goose chase.”

”We may be about the hollow props,” Merriman returned, ”and we may be about the brandy smuggling. But there's no mistake at all about something being wrong. That's certain from what Hilliard overheard.”

Leatham nodded.

”I know all that,” he said, ”and when we've carried out this present scheme we shall know something more. Now let's see. When does that blessed boat next leave France?”

”Thursday morning, we reckon,” Hilliard told him.

”Then on Friday afternoon I shall call up those people and pitch my yarn about my consignment of props having gone astray, and ask if they can send their boat direct here. How's that?”

”Nothing could be better.”

”Then I think for the present you two had better clear out. Our connection should not be known. And don't go near London either. That chap Morton has lost you once, but he'll not do it a second time. Go and tramp the Peak District, or something of that kind. Then you'll be wanted back in Hull on Sat.u.r.day.”

”What's that for?” both men exclaimed in a breath.

”That blessed barrel of yours. You say the Girondin will leave France on Thursday night. That means she will be in the Humber on Sunday night or Monday morning. Now you reckoned she would unload here and put the faked props ash.o.r.e and load up oil at Ferriby on her way out. But she mightn't. She might go into Ferriby first. It would be the likely thing to do, in fact, for then she'd get here with nothing suspicious aboard and could unload everything. So I guess you'll have to watch in your barrel on Sunday, and that means getting into it on Sat.u.r.day night.”

The two friends swore and Leatham laughed.

”Good heavens,” Hilliard cried, ”it means about four more nights of the d.a.m.ned thing. From Sat.u.r.day night to Sunday night for the arrival; maybe until Monday night if she lies over to discharge the faked props on Monday. Then another two nights or maybe three to cover her departure. I tell you it's a tall order.”

”But think of the prize,” Leatham smiled maliciously. ”As a matter of fact I don't see any other way.”

”There is no other way,” Merriman declared with decision. ”We may just set our teeth and go through with it.”

After further discussion it was arranged that the friends would leave early next day for Harrogate. There Leatham would wire them on Friday the result of his negotiations about the Girondin. They could then return to Hull and get out their boat on Sat.u.r.day should that be necessary. When about midnight they turned in, Leatham was quite as keen about the affair as his guests, and quite as anxious that their joint experiment should be crowned with success.

The two friends spent a couple of lazy days amusing themselves in Harrogate, until towards evening on the Friday Merriman was called to the telephone.

”That'll be Leatham,” he exclaimed. ”Come on, Hilliard, and hear what he has to say.”

It was the mineowner speaking from his office.

”I've just rung up our friends,” he told them, ”and that business is all right. There was some delay about it at first, for Benson--that's the manager--was afraid he hadn't enough stock of props for current orders.

But on looking up his records he found he could manage, so he is letting the s.h.i.+p come on.”

”Jolly good, Leatham.”

”The Girondin is expected about seven tomorrow evening. Benson then asked about a pilot. It seems their captain is a certified pilot of the Humber up to Ferriby, but he could not take the boat farther. I told him I'd lend him the man who acted for me, and what I've arranged is this, I shall send Angus Menzies, the master of one of my river tugs, to the wharf at Ferriby about six on Sat.u.r.day evening. When the Girondin comes up he can go aboard and work her on here. Menzies is a good man, and I shall drop a hint that I've bought the whole cargo, and to keep his eyes open that nothing is put ash.o.r.e that I don't get. That'll be a still further check.”

The friends expressed their satisfaction at this arrangement, and it was decided that as soon as the investigation was over all three should meet and compare results at Leatham's house.

Next evening saw the two inquirers back at their hotel in Hull. They had instructed the owner of their hired boat to keep it in readiness for them, and about eleven o'clock, armed with the footstool and the satchel of food, they once more got on board and pulled out on to the great stream. Merriman not wis.h.i.+ng to spend longer in the barrel than was absolutely necessary, they went ash.o.r.e near Ha.s.sle and had a couple of hours' sleep, and it was well past four when they reached the depot. The adventure was somewhat more risky than on the previous occasion, owning to the presence of a tiny arc of moon. But they carried out their plans without mishap, Merriman taking his place in the cask, and Hilliard returning to Hull with the boat.

If possible, the slow pa.s.sage of the heavily weighted hours until the following evening was even more irksome to the watcher than on the first occasion. Merriman felt he would die of weariness and boredom long before anything happened, and it was only the thought that he was doing it for Madeleine Coburn that kept him from utter collapse.

At intervals during the morning, Benson, the manager, or one of the other men came out for a moment or two on the wharf, but no regular work went on there. During the interminable hours of the afternoon no one appeared at all, the whole place remaining silent and deserted, and it was not until nearly six that the sound of footsteps fell on Merriman's weary ears. He heard a gruff voice saying: ”Ah'm no so sairtain o' it mesel',” which seemed to accord with the name of Leatham's skipper, and then came Benson's voice raised in agreement.