Mr. Narkom
had expressed his doubts about it, had told Cleek that he really did not
see how any human agency could possibly get Nigel Merriton off, with such
appalling evidence to damn him. And what an electrical factory could have
to do with it...!
"You forget the good Borkins's connection with the affair," returned
Cleek, a trifle sharply, "and you forget another thing. And that is, that
I have found the man who attempted my life, and mean eventually to come
to grips with him. That is the only reason why I did not speak at the
inquest this afternoon. I am going to bide my time, but I'll have the
beggar in the end. If working for a time at an electrical factory is
going to help on matters, then work there I'm going to, and Dollops with
me....
"If there should be need of me, don't forget that I am Bill Jones,
sailorman, once of Jamaica, now of the Factory, Saltfleet. And stick to
the code. A wire will fetch me." He hopped out upon the platform just
here, in his "cut-throat" make-up--a little nastily done, for the time
between the stations had been short--but excellent, nevertheless; then as
Mr.
Pages:
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251