nishing speed for a man of his build he seized the handle
and threw open the door of Mrs. Barraclough's bedroom. The action was
deliberate since he desired to find out who might possibly be concealed
in the inner room and its advantages were immeasurable for at the very
moment his back was turned Anthony Barraclough, dusty and spent,
stumbled in through the French window.

Jane gave a short, stifled squeak and pointed and he was out again and
ducking behind a rose bush before Bolt had time to turn and apologise
for his mistake.

"Show this gentleman through the gate and down the road," said Mrs.
Barraclough in a voice that did not betray her excitement by a single
tremor.

"I thank you for your hospitality, dear lady," said the Reverend
Prometheus, "and I trust I may have the pleasure of bettering our
acquaintance."

As he bowed himself out he discreetly dropped his gloves behind a
cushion on the sofa.

"This way, please," said Jane. "This way."

CHAPTER 26.

AMONG ALLIES.

The door had scarcely closed upon the retreating masquerader when once
again Barraclough slipped into the room. His clothes were white with
dust, his eyes hollow and deep set, but around the corners of his mouth
was just such a smile as any mother might hope to see.

"Bless your sweet bobbed head," he whispered, throwing an arm
affectionately about her shoulders. "Though why in blazes you
entertain well known crooks to tea gets me wondering."

"Oh, my dear, dear boy, wherever did you come from?" she cried, patting
him all over to convince herself of his reality.

"Down the chimney, mother, like Santa Claus."

"But why and without a word?"

"Hadn't a notion I was coming," he replied dropping on to the sofa and
spreading out his legs. "I was whacked to the wide and had to stop
somewhere and get me breath."

The door was flung open and Flora and Jane burst in.

"I say, that was a near shave," gasped the latter. "Where did you
spring from?"

"Somewhere t'other side of Plymouth. Keep your eye on the window,
Flora. Don't want that old blackbird to get a view of me. Thanks!
Fine. See him down the road, Jane?"

"You bet."

"It's damn bad luck him being here at all. When did he first show up?"

"Last night."

"There's been a mess-up somewhere and I was looking for a clean run
home."

"Home, dear?"

"Um! Back to London. How's mother's old car going, Flora?"

"Tiptop."

"Good, I shall need it. I say, I apol