ot be a far better plan if ye went back to Glasgow and
came back in a week's time? I'm thinking of your own comfort, Mr.
McCunn."

Dickson was cogitating hard. This man was clearly instructed to get
rid of him at all costs for the next few days. The neighbourhood had
to be cleared for some black business. The tinklers had been deputed
to drive out the Gorbals Die-Hards, and as for Heritage they seemed to
have lost track of him. He, Dickson, was now the chief object of their
care. But what could Dobson do if he refused? He dared not show his
true hand. Yet he might, if sufficiently irritated. It became
Dickson's immediate object to get the innkeeper to reveal himself by
rousing his temper. He did not stop to consider the policy of this
course; he imperatively wanted things cleared up and the issue made
plain.

"I'm sure I'm much obliged to you for thinking so much about my
comfort," he said in a voice into which he hoped he had insinuated a
sneer. "But I'm bound to say you're awful suspicious folk about here.
You needn't be feared for your old policies. There's plenty of nice
walks about the roads, and I want to explore the sea-coast."

The last words seemed to annoy the innkeeper. "That's no' allowed
either," he said. "The shore's as private as the policies.... Well, I
wish ye joy tramping the roads in the glaur."

"It's a queer thing," said Dickson meditatively, "that you should keep
a hotel and yet be set on discouraging people from visiting this
neighbourhood. I tell you what, I believe that hotel of yours is all
sham. You've some other business, you and these lodgekeepers, and in
my opinion it's not a very creditable one."

"What d'ye mean?" asked Dobson sharply.

"Just what I say. You must expect a body to be suspicious, if you
treat him as you're treating me." Loudon must have told this man the
story with which he had been fobbed off about the half-witted Kennedy
relative. Would Dobson refer to that?

The innkeeper had an ugly look on his face, but he controlled his
temper with an effort.

"There's no cause for suspicion," he said. "As far as I'm concerned
it's all honest and above-board."

"It doesn't look like it. It looks as if you were hiding something up
in the House which you don't want me to see."

Dobson jumped from his chair, his face pale with anger. A man in
pyjamas on a raw morning does not feel at this bravest, and Dickson
quailed under the expectation of assault. But