“He’s the goods right enough,” he answered grimly. “But what worries me is how to stop their delivery.”
At that moment Darrell’s voice came up from the hall.
“The whole bunch are stowed away, Hugh. What’s the next item?”
Hugh walked to the top of the stairs.
“Bring ’em both below,” he cried over his shoulder, as he went down. A grin spread over his face as he saw half a dozen familiar faces in the hall, and he hailed them cheerily.
“Like old times, boys,” he laughed. “Where’s the driver of the lorry?”
“That’s me, sir.” One of the men stepped forward. “My mate’s outside.”
“Good,” said Hugh. “Take your bus ten miles from here: then drop that crowd one by one on the road as you go along. You can take it from me that none of ’em will say anything about it, even when they wake up. Then take her back to your garage; I’ll see you later.”
“Now,” went on Hugh, as they heard the sound of the departing lorry, “we’ve got to set the scene for to-morrow morning.” He glanced at his watch. “Just eleven. How long will it take me to get the old buzz-box to Laidley Towers?”
“Laidley Towers,” echoed Darrell. “What the devil are you going there for?”