“I’m quite certain you will,” said Hugh. “And if you don’t, you swine, I’ll make you. When does Peterson come back?”
“Termorrow, too, sir, as far as I knows,” answered the man, and at that moment the intimidated rabbit shot rapidly out of his room, propelled by an accurate and forcible kick from Toby, who had followed him in to ensure rapidity of toilet.
“And what’s he doing?” demanded Drummond.
“On the level, guv’nor, I can’t tell yer. Strite, I can’t; ’e can.” The man pointed to the latest arrival, who, with his nightdress tucked into his trousers, stood gasping painfully after the manner of a recently landed fish.
“I repeat, sir,” he sputtered angrily, “that this is an outrage. By what right…”
“Dry up,” remarked Hugh briefly. Then he turned to the American. “This is one of the ragged-trousered brigade I spoke to you about.”
For a while the three men studied him in silence; then the American thoughtfully transferred his chewing-gum to a fresh place.
“Wal,” he said, “he looks like some kind o’ disease; but I guess he’s got a tongue. Say, flop-ears, what are you, anyway?”
“I am the secretary of a social organisation which aims at the amelioration of the conditions under which the workers of the world slave,” returned the other with dignity.
“You don’t say,” remarked the American unmoved. “Do the workers of the world know about it?”
“And I again demand to know,” said the other, turning to Drummond, “the reason for this monstrous indignity.”
“What do you know about Peterson, little man?” said Hugh, paying not the slightest attention to his protests.
“Nothing, save that he is the man whom we have been looking for, for years,” cried the other. “The man of stupendous organising power, who has brought together and welded into one the hundreds of societies similar to mine, who before this have each, on their own, been feebly struggling towards the light. Now we are combined, and our strength is due to him.”
Hugh exchanged glances with the American.
“Things become clearer,” he murmured. “Tell me, little man,” he continued, “now that you’re all welded together, what do you propose to do?”
“That you shall see in good time,” cried the other triumphantly. “Constitutional methods have failed—and, besides, we’ve got no time to wait for them. Millions are groaning under the intolerable bonds of the capitalist: those millions we shall free, to a life that is worthy of a man. And it will all be due to our leader—Carl Peterson.”
A look of rapt adoration came into his face, and the American laughed in genuine delight.
“Didn’t I tell you, Captain, that that guy was the goods?”
But there was no answering smile on Hugh’s face.
“He’s the goods right enough,” he answered grimly. “But what worries me is how to stop their delivery.”
At that moment Darrell’s voice came up from the hall.
“The whole bunch are stowed away, Hugh. What’s the next item?”
Hugh walked to the top of the stairs.
“Bring ’em both below,” he cried over his shoulder, as he went down. A grin spread over his face as he saw half a dozen familiar faces in the hall, and he hailed them cheerily.
“Like old times, boys,” he laughed. “Where’s the driver of the lorry?”
“That’s me, sir.” One of the men stepped forward. “My mate’s outside.”
“Good!” said Hugh. “Take your bus ten miles from here: then drop that crowd one by one on the road as you go along. You can take it from me that none of ’em will say anything about it, even when they wake up. Then take her back to your garage; I’ll see you later.”
“Now,” went on Hugh, as they heard the sound of the departing lorry, “we’ve got to set the scene for tomorrow morning.” He glanced at his watch. “Just eleven. How long will it take me to get the old buzz-box to Laidley Towers?”
“Laidley Towers,” echoed Darrell. “What the devil are you going there for?”
“I just can’t bear to be parted from Henry for one moment longer than necessary,” said Hugh quietly. “And Henry is there, in a praiseworthy endeavour to lift the Duchess’s pearls… Dear Henry!” His two fists clenched, and the American looking at his face, laughed softly.
But it was only for a moment that Drummond indulged in the pleasures of anticipation; all that could come after. And just now there were other things to be done—many others, if events next morning were to go as they should.
“Take those two into the centre room,” he cried. “Incidentally there’s a dead Boche on the floor, but he’ll come in very handy in my little scheme.”
“A dead Boche!” The intimidated rabbit gave a frightened squeak. “Good heavens! You ruffian, this is beyond a joke.” Hugh looked at him coldly.
“You’ll find it beyond a joke, you miserable little rat,” he said quietly, “if you speak to me like that.” He laughed as the other shrank past him. “Three of you boys in there,” he ordered briskly, “and if either of them gives the slightest trouble clip him over the head. Now let’s have the rest of the crowd in here, Peter.”
They came filing in, and Hugh waved a cheery hand in greeting. “How goes it, you fellows?” he cried with his infectious grin. “Like a company powwow before popping the parapet. What! And it’s a bigger show this time, boys, than any you’ve had over the water.” His face set grimly for a moment; then he grinned again, as he sat down on the foot of the stairs. “Gather round, and listen to me.”
For five minutes he spoke, and his audience nodded delightedly. Apart from their love for Drummond—and three out of every four of them knew him personally—it was a scheme which tickled them to death. And he was careful to tell them just enough of the sinister design of the master-criminal to make them realise the bigness of, the issue.
“That’s all clear, then,” said Drummond, rising. “Now I’m off. Toby, I want you to come, too. We ought to be there by midnight.”
“There’s only one point, Captain,” remarked the American, as the group began to disperse. “That safe—and the ledger.” He fumbled in his pocket, and produced a small india-rubber bottle. “I’ve got the soup here—gelignite,” he explained, as he saw the mystified look on the other’s face. “I reckoned it might come in handy. Also a fuse and detonator.”
“Splendid!” said Hugh, “splendid! You’re an acquisition, Mr. Green, to any gathering. But I think—I think—Lakington first. Oh! yes—most undoubtedly—Henry first!”
And once again the American laughed softly at the look on his face.
CHAPTER XI
In Which Lakington Plays His Last ‘Coup’
I
“Toby, I’ve got a sort of horrid feeling that the hunt is nearly over.”
With a regretful sigh Hugh swung the car out of the sleeping town of Godalming in the direction of Laidley Towers. Mile after mile dropped smoothly behind the powerful two-seater, and still Drummond’s eyes wore a look of resigned sadness.
“Very nearly over,” he remarked again. “And then once more the tedium of respectability positively stares us in the face.”
“You’ll