“Good-bye, Mr. Maitland,” he said.
Maitland did not speak. His eyes were open wide with terror, his face blanched to the colour of death.
“You . . . you!” he croaked. “Oh, my God!”
He seemed to totter, and the girl sprang to catch him, but he recovered himself, and, turning, ran down the path with an agility which was surprising in one of his age, tore open the gate and flew along the road. They heard his dry sobs coming back to them.
“Father,” whispered the girl in fear, “did he know you? Did he recognize you?”
“I wonder,” said John Bennett of Horsham.
CHAPTER XXV
IN REGARD TO SAUL MORRIS
DICK GORDON ’phoned across to headquarters, and Elk reported immediately.
“I’ve discovered six good get-away bags, and each one is equipped as completely and exactly as the one we found at King’s Cross.”