“The young fellow was very ill—quite off his head for three days—and then they gave him some injections which quietened him, and now he’s a lot better. Nearer his normal self, I hear.” And he sank into a chair by the fire.
“H’m! He’ll probably have a second relapse. I wonder what they gave him? I wonder if this Harley Street chap has twigged our game, Jim?”
“Perhaps he has.”
“If so, then it’s a jolly good job for us that I kept out of the way. Young Homfray has never seen me to his knowledge, remember. He saw you several times.”
“Yes, Gordon. You took precautions—as you always do. You somehow seem to see into the future.”
“I do, my dear Jimmie. I hope this lad doesn’t recognise Freda again. He may, of course. But he doesn’t know me—which is as well.”
“He recollects finding Edna, though.”
“Ah! That’s a little awkward, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. He told the old sky-pilot all about it, but naturally they think his mind is unhinged and take the story with a grain of salt.”
“Naturally. But what else?” asked the well-dressed international crook with a business-like air.