“That’s all right.”
The man withheld it.
“What about my ten shillings?”
Tommy hastily produced a ten-shilling note, and the man relinquished his find. Tommy unfastened it.
“DEAR TOMMY,
“I knew it was you last night. Don’t go this evening. They’ll be lying in wait for you. They’re taking us away this morning. I heard something about Wales—Holyhead, I think. I’ll drop this on the road if I get a chance. Annette told me how you’d escaped. Buck up.
“Yours,
“TWOPENCE.”
Tommy raised a shout for Albert before he had even finished perusing this characteristic epistle.
“Pack my bag! We’re off!”