They were only just in time, for as they emerged into the alley the watchman was returning with the constable. They squeezed close against the wall, securing the friendly cover of the darkness, and a moment later they were in Gresham Street.
"What is to be done next?" Rigby said.
"I think that is pretty obvious," Seymour chuckled. "So far as I can see this is a nice little job for Inspector Bates."
[CHAPTER XXXVI.]
A STROKE OF POLICY.
Jack nodded significantly to his companion, as much as to signify that Seymour must be allowed to have his own way. The latter had taken the matter into his own hands from the first. It was quite evident that he was working out some deep and subtle scheme, and the others were disposed to give him a free hand.
"Would you like to see Bates now?" Jack asked.
"Most emphatically not," Seymour laughed. "It is no cue of mine to come in contact with the police until I have seen my way quite clear. Besides, you are by no means certain yet that Bates will be put on to this case, and be given the opportunity of investigating the startling burglary at the City and Provincial Bank. Again, it may be too much for Bates's nerves if I burst upon him suddenly, and he recognizes me as the dead Nostalgo who was so mysteriously spirited from Shannon Street police station. No; on the whole, I should prefer that you should go and see Bates alone. Tell him exactly what happened and what you saw to-night, leaving me out of the question. Then come and see me some time to-morrow afternoon, and I will tell you what to do next."
"One moment," Rigby exclaimed, as Seymour was turning away. "What was that idea of yours about the cotton waste?"
Seymour winked significantly, and remarked that it was time he was in bed. With a cheery nod to his companions, he turned his face in an easterly direction and strolled off down the street.