Whether they had discovered the relationship between Mullen and the owner of the “Odd Trick,” and in following up the clue had traced the boat to Southend, or whether they were in possession of information unknown to me which led them to believe the fugitive had been hiding in the neighbourhood, I could not say; but that they were there to effect the capture of Mullen, should he return to the cutter, I made no doubt.

Mullen, however, was apparently too wary a bird to come back to the nest until he had satisfied himself that no net had been spread there to catch him, for that he had got wind of what was going on at Southend seemed probable from the fact that he never put in an appearance there again. Nor would it have profited me personally if he had, for in that case I could scarcely hope to forestall the police in the matter of his arrest.

Under the circumstances it would be mere waste of time to stay in Southend, and the question I had now to ask myself was, “Where, then, is he likely to be?”

As crime begets crime, so question begets question, and “Where, then, is he likely to be?” had scarcely come to the birth before it was itself in travail with, “Why not on the ‘Cuban Queen’?”

CHAPTER XXVII
I PLAY A GAME OF “BLUFF” WITH HUGHES

“Why not on the ‘Cuban Queen’ indeed?” I repeated, as I called to mind the fact that it was there Mullen had lain secure when the hue and cry were at their height. It was only when the hue and cry had somewhat subsided that he had ventured forth to commence his devilry afresh; and what was more likely, now that the hue and cry had been raised once more, than that he should have crept back to his former hiding-place?

The next afternoon I was in the little cottage at Canvey again, and should have been there sooner but for the fact that I wished first to satisfy myself that my movements were not being watched by the police.

I did not intend on this occasion to waste time in trying to find out whether Hughes had any one on board with him or not, especially as I was now without Quickly’s assistance. This was a case in which it seemed to me safer to achieve my purpose by a bold stroke than to adopt the more cautious course of beating about the bush. The thing to do would be to engage Hughes in conversation, and when he was off his guard to charge him suddenly with sheltering a fugitive from justice on board the “Cuban Queen.” The cleverest rogue is apt to betray himself when a surprise is thus sprung upon him, and such a clumsy rascal as Hughes should not be difficult to deal with. I did not doubt that he would deny the impeachment with much bluster and more bad language, but by keeping a keen eye upon his face when playing my game of “bluff” I hoped to be able to come to some definite conclusion in regard to the theory I had formed concerning Mullen’s whereabouts.

But I had yet to catch the hare which I felt so competent to cook, and of the two tasks the former promised to be the more difficult. Hughes, as the reader already knows, did not often leave the hulk, and as it was quite out of the question that I should seek him there, some plan for making it necessary for him to come ashore must be devised. After much brain-cudgelling I hit upon an idea which I immediately proceeded to carry out. The oil which was burned in Hughes’ cabin was taken out to him every Monday and Thursday by the attendant whose duty it was to fetch and carry for the caretakers of the hulks. I knew that it was so as the man had to pass my door on his way to the boat, and I had seen the tin can in his hand repeatedly. As a matter of fact, I was at that moment reminded of the matter, for the day was Thursday, and the man in question was just going by my gate, carrying the can in one hand and a small sack of potatoes in the other. If I did not avail myself of this opportunity I should have to wait until the following Monday before taking action, so I at once opened the door and hailed him.

“I want you to do a little commission for me,” I said. “You’ll be going down to the village some time to-day, I know. Could you leave a letter to Mr. Hayes at the vicarage?”