"That'll be Matherfield's wire," he exclaimed "Now then——"
A moment later he came back to her with the message in his hand.
"It is from Matherfield," he said. "Handed in Southampton West six-nineteen. Doesn't say if he's got him! All he says is; 'Meet me Waterloo, arriving eight-twenty.' Well——"
"I wonder?" said Rhona. "But Baseverie is——"
"Just what Robmore says," muttered Hetherwick.
"However—" he looked at his watch. "Come along," he continued. "We've just time to get some dinner—at Waterloo—and to be on the platform when the eight-twenty comes in. If only we could see Baseverie in charge of Matherfield and Quigman first it would give me an appetite!"
The vast space between the station buildings and the entrance to the platform at Waterloo was thronged when Hetherwick and Rhona came out of the restaurant at ten minutes past eight. Hetherwick was inquiring as to which platform the Southampton train would come in at when he felt a light touch on his arm. Turning sharply he saw Robmore. Robmore gave him a quiet smile, coupled with an informing wink.
"Guess you're on the same job, Mr. Hetherwick," he said. "Wire from Matherfield, eh?"
"Yes," replied Hetherwick. "And you?"
"Same here," assented Robmore. "Just to say I was to be here for the eight-twenty—with help," he added significantly. "I've got the help; there's four of us round about. Heard anything of those ladies, Mr. Hetherwick?"