“For what?” inquired Rolfe, in surprise.
“For believing ill of you,” was all the old man vouchsafed.
“I tried to do my duty as your secretary,” was all he said.
“Your duty. You have done more. You have watched my enemies even though I sneered at your well-meant warning,” he said. “But if you have watched, you perhaps know where the pair are in hiding.”
“Lyle lives at the First Avenue Hotel, in Holborn. Adams lives in a small furnished flat in Addison Mansions, close to Addison Road railway station.”
“Lives there in preference to an hotel because he can go in and out shabby and down-at-heel without attracting comment—eh?”
“I suppose so. I had great difficulty in following him to his hiding-place without arousing his suspicions.”
“Does he really mean mischief?” asked the principal of Statham Brothers, bending slightly towards his secretary.
“Yes; undoubtedly he does. The pair are here with the intention of bringing ruin upon you and upon the house of Statham,” was Rolfe’s quiet reply.
“Then only you can save me, Rolfe,” cried the old man, starting up wildly.