“Mr. Howell is quite safe,” declared the man with the gloved hand. “He is one of Us. So you may speak without fear.”
“Well,” replied the young man, “the fact is, I’ve had a very apprehensive time. I’m here to seek Mr. Peters’ kind advice, for without him I’m sure I’d have been arrested and perhaps convicted long ago.”
“Oh! A bit of bad luck—eh? Nearly found out, have you been? Ah! All of us have our narrow escapes. I’ve had many in my time,” and he grinned.
“So have all of us,” laughed the bristly-haired man. “But tell me, Henfrey, why have you come to see me so quickly?”
“Because they know where I’m in hiding!”
“They know? Who knows?”
“Miss Ranscomb knows my whereabouts and has written to me in my real name and addressed the letter to Shapley.”
“Well, what of that?” he asked. “I told her.”
“She tells me that my present hiding-place is known!”
“Not known to the police? Impossible!” gasped the black-gloved man.