‘It’s just possible,’ he answered, ‘but I hardly think so. Your phone was received at ’—he referred to a paper—‘4.42. Orders were issued immediately, but considering telegraphic delays, they were probably not received at Tavistock till five or slightly after. The men would then have to be collected and instructed. They might have seen those trains out, but it’s unlikely.’
‘Well, I’ll go on to Tavistock now anyway,’ Tanner decided. ‘I presume you will have those trains searched?’
‘Of course. I issued a new set of orders immediately. Both trains will be carefully examined, and the country all about Tavistock will be scoured. We are well accustomed to that,’ the Superintendent added with a grim smile.
‘The Princetown convicts? I suppose you are,’ answered Tanner, as with a brief word of farewell he withdrew.
There being no train by either line for some little time, Tanner took a car. As they climbed the long, slow incline to Yelverton, out of the relaxing, enervating Plymouth air, he felt himself growing fresher and more energetic. He was grimly determined not to rest till he had laid his hands on the man who had duped him. From merely professional, the matter had become personal. Tanner’s pride was involved. No one, he swore, should play him such a trick and get off with it.
They slipped quietly through the fifteen or sixteen miles of charmingly wooded country, dropping into Tavistock as the shadows began to lengthen across the road. The sergeant had been advised of Tanner’s arrival, and was expecting him. Together they ran back and examined the abandoned car. Though they found nothing directly helpful, Tanner felt sure it was the one he had seen from the sitting room at Myrtle Cottage.
He turned to his companion.
‘Did you hear about this in time to examine the Plymouth and Exeter trains at 5.27 and 5.22?’ he asked.
The other shook his head.
‘No, sir, I’m sorry to say we did not. But I have since made inquiries. No one with a grey beard was seen at either station. At the Great Western Station four persons booked, all third single to Plymouth, but the clerk remembers one of these was a young sailor and the others women. At the South-Western Station two tickets were issued to Exeter, one a first to Major Reading, who lives here, the other a third single to a little, elderly, clean-shaven man. Our men were there within ten minutes of the train’s departure, so that’s how the clerks remembered—between that and there being so few bookings.’