"Dear roses," said Mrs. Barraclough, sentimentally.
CHAPTER 28.
SAND.
A panel is not beaten into shape by force but by recurrent blows, light and accurate, and by the same cumulative process, Van Diest and his colleagues sought to shape the will of Richard Frencham Altar to their intention.
The fact that their effort had so far failed in no way discouraged the belief that eventually it would succeed. There was no doubt in their minds but that in time he would be brought to speak, but Cranbourne's unexpected disclosure that the opposition knew of their captive's whereabouts robbed them of their most valuable asset. Time, so to speak, was no longer to be relied upon and they were compelled to resort to a more expeditious method.
True it would be easy to remove the captive elsewhere but easy matters are apt to go wrong on performance. A clue might be provided where at present no clue existed. If Torrington brought a charge it would be based on hypothetical evidence and come to nothing. On the other hand unpleasant suspicions would certainly be aroused and neither Van Diest nor Hipps greatly desired to attract the attentions of the Police.
If Barraclough could be persuaded to disclose the secret all would be well. He would be generously rewarded not only for his confidence but also for a guarantee to disclose none of the privations to which he had been subjected. The affair would end in an atmosphere of sweet accord. Torrington's crowd would be knocked out of business and a spirit of peace and harmony would descend like a benison upon the hard working trio.
Could any solution be more satisfactory, but there was a fly in the ointment. Barraclough's resolution strengthened with adversity, he kept his tongue behind locked teeth and said precisely nothing.
At nine o'clock that night the Dutchman's big Rolls Royce delivered him and Ezra Hipps at Laurence's abode and Laurence himself came out to meet them.
"Well?" said Hipps.