Why?"
Cleek shook his head.
"Nothing important. I was only just wondering. Now then, Lake, you'll be
late if you loiter any longer, and our--er--friends will be waiting.
Good-bye, Sir Nigel, and good luck. Lunch at one-fifteen, I take it?"
He swung upon his heel and linked his arm with Mr. Narkom's, then, taking
his cap from a peg on the hall stand, clapped it on his head and went
down and out to the task that awaited him, and a discovery which was,
to say the least of it, startling in the extreme.
They walked for some time in comparative silence, puffing at their
cigarettes. Then of a sudden, Cleek spoke.
"I say, old man, you'll want to keep a close look-out upon your own
personal safety," he said, abruptly, wheeling round and meeting his
friend full in the eyes.
"What d'you mean, C--Headland?"
"What I say. Someone's got wind of our real purpose here. I have a grave
suspicion that that Borkins was listening at my door last evening when
I was talking to Dollops. Later--well, somebody or other tried to get me
in bed.
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