"No, of course not. You're right, Harry," said Dick, a good deal abashed. "I'll try to keep quieter after this."
"I wonder why there are two of us," said Dick, presently, in a whisper. "I should think one would be enough."
"I think we've both got just the same papers to carry," said Harry, also in a whisper. "You see, if one of us gets lost, or anything happens to his papers, the other will probably get through all right. At least it looks that way to me."
"Harry," said Dick, after a pause, "I've got an idea. Suppose we separate and take different ways to get to Waterloo? Wouldn't that make it safer? We could meet there and go back to Ealing together."
"That's a good idea, Dick," said Harry. He didn't think that their present errand was one of great importance, in spite of what Colonel Throckmorton had said. He thought it more likely that they were being tried out and tested, so that the colonel might draw his own conclusions as to how far he might safely trust them in the future. But he repressed his inclination to smile at this sudden excess of caution on Dick's part. It was a move in the right direction, certainly.
"Yes, we'll do that," he said. "I'll walk across the bridge, and you can take the tube under the river from the Monument."
They followed that plan, and met without incident at the station. Here more than ever the fact of war was in evidence. A considerable space in and near the station had been roped off and sentries refused to allow any to pass who could not prove that they had a right to do so. The ordinary peaceful vocation of the great terminal was entirely suspended.
"Anything happen to you?" asked Harry, with a smile. "I nearly got run over—but that was my own fault."
"No, nothing. I saw Graves. And he wanted to know what I was doing."
"What did you tell him?"