e war. Emboldened,
the detective tackled the subject of East Coast defences and the futile
German blockade.

"He's giving me absolutely false information," he thought. "Perhaps
he's trying to throw me off the scent. I'll put a few questions that
no one but an ignoramus would ask in good faith. If he's trying to
bluff me, I'll beat him at that game."

Presently his fellow-passenger excused himself and, without removing
his luggage, went into the corridor. As soon as he was out of sight
Hawke took hold of the cane that the stranger had left in the rack.
With a grunt of satisfaction he found that it was certainly not a
Malacca, but made of metal.

The train began to slow down. Lifting the blind, Hawke looked out of
the window. He could just discern a fairly big town, completely in
darkness.

"Manningtree Junction," said Hawke to himself. "Something on the line,
I suppose. H'm, we're stopping."

With a jerk the train pulled up at the station. The platform was
almost deserted, for no train was due at that time to stop there. A
door slammed. Again the detective pulled aside the blind. He was just
in time to see his fellow-traveller, accompanied by the guard,
disappear into the station waiting-room.

"He's tumbled to it!" exclaimed Hawke. "He's making off. He's tipped
the guard to set him down. I'm after him!"

He made his way swiftly and stealthily down the platform, and with a
quick movement threw open the waiting-room door.

The sudden transition from the semi-darkness of the platform to the
brilliantly lighted interior of the room temporarily dazzled his eyes.
Dimly he was aware that the place was occupied by khaki-clad soldiers
struggling into their equipment, and that in their midst was the guard
and the man of whom he was in search.

"At any rate there is plenty of assistance," thought Hawke as he
advanced to tap the suspect on the shoulder; but before he could attain
his object a deep, stern voice exclaimed:

"Arrest him, men!"

The next instant Detective-inspector Hawke was seized by half a dozen
muscular hands.

"What's this tomfoolery?" he demanded angrily. "I'm a Scotland Yard
officer, and----"

A roar of laughter burst from the Tommies. Even the subaltern in
command smiled broadly.

The stranger spoke again.

"Take him to the guard-room. He is arrested under the Defence of the
Realm Act for attempting to elicit information prejudicial to the
welfare of the State. I won't d