Falconer, full of thought, went on with his dinner. They were out of hearing of the girl and her companion. At last the young fellow related how he had been at Bevin’s Club with his old schoolfellow, Halliday, where Beryl and Gilbert Farrer had also been.
“Well, all I hope is that your friend Halliday will keep clear of that unholy organisation,” said his companion. “They’ll stick at nothing. But why are they friendly with your old schoolfellow? What is the motive—eh?”
“I don’t know. He’s a mining engineer, and has just gone to the Red Sea prospecting for a gold mine of the ancient Egyptians.”
“Ah! Then he should beware. There’s no doubt some very subtle plot afoot. You should warn your friend to have a care.”
“I can’t get at him. He’s gone out to Cape Ras Benas, and, like all prospectors, has not left an address.”
“That’s a pity. But when you get in touch with him again, warn him at once to avoid Daddy and his crowd as he would a poison bowl. They’re dangerous—very dangerous. I heard from my old friend, Superintendent Tarrant, of Scotland Yard, all about them. You recollect the Alleyn scandals in the papers about nine months ago? Well, old Whittaker and the girl yonder were at the bottom of it all. They escaped prosecution for blackmail, but they had netted over ten thousand pounds out of old Mr. Alleyn.”
Falconer now grew suspicious of Beryl’s acquaintance with his chum. Why had she seen him off so affectionately?
“I wonder where Farrer is to-night?”
“Farrer! Why, he’s a bird of passage—the kind of man who eats his breakfast in London, dines in Paris, and lunches next day beyond the Mont Cenis tunnel. He’s one of the cleverest thieves in all Europe—with Daddy’s brain, of course, behind him,” was Franks’ reply.
Falconer looked across the crowded room to where the old man and the girl were eating their dinner together. To others they appeared to be father and daughter. The man had an evening paper, and now and then glanced at it when the courses were finished.