I

“Well,” said Tuppence. “I don’t like it. That man’s as strong as a gorilla.”

“Ah!” said Tommy, “but think of my blue-nosed automatic.”

The door of the outer office opened and Albert appeared. Closing the door behind him, he approached them with an envelope in his hand.

“A gentleman to see you,” said Albert. “When I began the usual stunt of saying you were engaged with Scotland Yard, he told me he knew all about that. Said he came from Scotland Yard himself! And he wrote something on a card and stuck it up in this envelope.”

Tommy took the envelope and opened it. As he read the card, a grin passed across his face.

“The gentleman was amusing himself at your expense by speaking the truth, Albert,” he remarked. “Show him in.”

He tossed the card to Tuppence. It bore the name Detective Inspector Dymchurch, and across it was scrawled in pencil⁠—“A friend of Marriot’s.”

In another minute the Scotland Yard detective was entering the inner office. In appearance, Inspector Dymchurch was of the same type as Inspector Marriot, short and thick set, with shrewd eyes.

“Good afternoon,” said the detective breezily. “Marriot’s away in South Wales, but before he went, he asked me to keep an eye on you two, and on this place in general. Oh! bless you, sir,” he went on, as Tommy seemed about to interrupt him, “ we know all about it. It’s not our department, and we don’t interfere. But somebody’s got wise lately to the fact that all is not what it seems. You’ve had a gentleman here this afternoon. I don’t know what he called himself, and I don’t know what his real name is, but I know just a little about him. Enough to want to know more. Am I right in assuming that he made a date with you for some particular spot this evening?”