Thorndyke smiled indulgently, but persisted in his questions.
“Do you mean that you know there was nothing missing or only that you are not aware of anything being missing?”
The persistence of the questions impressed Phillip with a sudden suspicion that Thorndyke had something definite in his mind; that he had some reason for believing that something had been removed from the yacht. He ventured to suggest this to Thorndyke, who answered frankly enough: “You are so far right, Phillip, that I am not asking these questions at random. I would rather not say more than that just now.”
“Very well,” said Phillip; “I won’t press you for an explanation. But I may say that we dismantled the yacht in rather a hurry and hadn’t time to check the inventory, so I can’t really say whether there was anything missing or not. But you have come at a most opportune time, for it happens that we had arranged to go over to the place where she is laid up, at Battersea, to-morrow afternoon for the very purpose of checking the inventory and generally overhauling the boat and the gear. If you care to come over with us, or meet us there, we can settle your questions quite definitely. How will that suit you?”
“It will suit me perfectly,” replied Thorndyke. “If you will give me the address and fix a time, I will meet you there.”
“It is a disused wharf with some empty workshops,” said Phillip. “I will write down the directions and if you will be at the gate at three o’clock to-morrow, we can go through the gear and fittings together.”
Thorndyke made a note of the whereabouts of the wharf, and having thus dispatched the business on which he had come, he took an early opportunity to depart, not having any great desire to meet John Rodney and be subjected to the inevitable cross-examination. He could see that Phillip was, naturally enough, extremely curious as to the object of his inquiries, and he preferred to leave the two brothers to discuss the matter. On the morrow his actions would be guided by the results, if any, of the survey of the yacht.
Three o’clock on the following afternoon found him waiting at a large wooden gate in a narrow thoroughfare close to the river. On the pavement by his side stood the green canvas-covered “research-case” which was his constant companion whenever he went abroad on professional business. It contained a very complete outfit of such reagents and apparatus as he might require in a preliminary investigation; but on the present occasion its usual contents had been reinforced by two large bottles, to obtain which Polton had that morning made a special visit to a wholesale chemist’s in the Borough.
A church clock somewhere across the river struck the hour; and almost at the same moment John and Phillip Rodney emerged from a tributary alley and advanced towards the gate.
“You are here first, then,” said Phillip, “but we are not late. I heard a clock strike a moment ago.”