"No, it ain't `blackmail,' either! Don't you say that. Bum me, Ken, can't you see this is the only way to do it? If it'll comfort you any, I'll absolutely guarantee that Charters and I can arrange it so that you don't get dragged into this business of Hogenauer's death at all, so that you ain't called as a witness and never show your nose anywhere. But I can't do it immediately: I mean I can't do it smack within the next couple of hours: there's got to be some wire-pullin' first. D'ye see that? And it's the next couple of hours that count. Ken, you got to go on to Bristol straight as a homin' crow, and pinch that envelope before Keppel gets back to his hotel. You got to go by train, too. It's a pretty long way, and what we want is speed."
"With a halfpenny in my pocket," I said, "and without a coat-'
"Sure!" agreed H.M. comfortably, "and that's where the wench comes in. There's a late train up from Plymouth that gets into Moreton Abbot at 11.20. It's a fast train to London, but it makes several stops, and Bristol is one of 'em. It'll be touch-and-go if we can make it, but we'll snap the wench to Moreton Abbot as fast as we can, and I think she can make it. You meet her on the platform. She can't pick you up where you are, because the station's clear over at the other side of town from Valley Road, and she'd miss the train for sure. She'll meet you at the station with plenty of money, and one of Charters's coats if you're so goddam sartorially fussy. And there you are. Hey?"
"That's fine. What if she misses the train?"
"Now, now," growled H.M. soothingly. "You can find a way to Bristol if she does. We got to hurry, Ken. Bye-bye."
The line went dead.
Even that little thread of communication was cut off. In vain I jiggled the hook. In vain I pointed out to unresponsive carbon that I had never before been in Moreton Abbot in my life, and had no notion as to where the railway-station might be — except the encouraging fact that it was on the other side of town. Under the circumstances, I should probably have to ask a policeman.
However, it would not do to remain in an illuminated box on a street corner, open to any inspection. I stepped out into a grateful cool after the thick heat of that box, and still the gloomy streets seemed deserted. At random I chose a turning (it had high hedges on either side, and was sufficiently ill-lighted), where I leaned back against the hedge to consider the position.
To get to that station there was only one course I could safely employ, but it was the best one. I still had my Compleat Policeman's outfit. There were still plenty of motor-cars abroad. I could put on the outfit again, stop some car with official stateliness, and ask to be driven to the station in order to head off a wanted man whom we believed to be escaping by the 11.20 train.
It did no good merely to stand and swear. My wench, with her usual taste for devilment, had insisted on walking straight into the middle of this tangle: and now it appeared that I must see her through it. I should have been warned by Evelyn's chortle of pleasure that afternoon, and her suspicious meekness when I had ordered her to stay behind. It occurred to me to wonder what her father, the major-general, might be thinking at that moment. Of course, our being together made it a little better, but it did not improve the hare-brained course. It is all very well to talk of the open road, the bright eyes of danger, and similar cliches, but I am a Scot and I have a Scot's caution.