The Prime Minister tapped the desk in front of him with nervous fingers.
His face was worn and harassed1. He took up his conversation with Mr.
Carter at the point it had broken off.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “Do you really mean that things are not sodesperate after all?”
“So this lad seems to think.”
“Let’s have a look at his letter again.”
Mr. Carter handed it over. It was written in a sprawling3 boyish hand.
Dear Mr. Carter,
Something’s turned up that has given me a jar. Ofcourse I may be simply making an awful ass2 of myself,but I don’t think so. If my conclusions are right, that girlat Manchester was just a plant. The whole thing wasprearranged, sham4 packet and all, with the object ofmaking us think the game was up—therefore I fancythat we must have been pretty hot on the scent5.
I think I know who the real Jane Finn is, and I’ve evengot an idea where the papers are. That last’s only aguess, of course, but I’ve a sort of feeling it’ll turn outright6. Anyhow, I enclose it in a sealed envelope for whatit’s worth. I’m going to ask you not to open it until thevery last moment, midnight on the 28th, in fact. You’llunderstand why in a minute. You see, I’ve figured it outthat those things of Tuppence’s are a plant too, andshe’s no more drowned than I am. The way I reason isthis: as a last chance they’ll let Jane Finn escape in thehope that she’s been shamming7 this memory stunt8, andthat once she thinks she’s free she’ll go right away tothe cache. Of course it’s an awful risk for them to take,because she knows all about them—but they’re prettydesperate to get hold of that treaty. But if they knowthat the papers have been recovered by us, neither ofthose two girls’ lives will be worth an hour’s purchase. Imust try and get hold of Tuppence before Jane escapes.
I want a repeat of that telegram that was sent to Tup-pence at the Ritz. Sir James Peel Edgerton said youwould be able to manage that for me. He’s frightfullyclever.
One last thing—please have that house in Soho watchedday and night.
Yours, etc.,
Thomas Beresford.
The Prime Minister looked up.
“The enclosure?”
Mr. Carter smiled dryly.
“In the vaults9 of the Bank. I am taking no chances.”
“You don’t think”— the Prime Minister hesitated a minute —“that itwould be better to open it now? Surely we ought to secure the document,that is, provided the young man’s guess turns out to be correct, at once.
We can keep the fact of having done so quite secret.”
“Can we? I’m not so sure. There are spies all round us. Once it’s known Iwouldn’t give that”—he snapped his fingers—“for the life of those twogirls. No, the boy trusted me, and I shan’t let him down.”
“Well, well, we must leave it at that, then. What’s he like, this lad?”
“Outwardly, he’s an ordinary clean-limbed, rather blockheaded youngEnglishman. Slow in his mental processes. On the other hand, it’s quite im-possible to lead him astray through his imagination. He hasn’t got any—sohe’s difficult to deceive. He worries things out slowly, and once he’s gothold of anything he doesn’t let go. The little lady’s quite different. More in-tuition and less common sense. They make a pretty pair working together.
Pace and stamina10.”
“He seems confident,” mused11 the Prime Minister.
“Yes, and that’s what gives me hope. He’s the kind of diffident youthwho would have to be very sure before he ventured an opinion at all.”
A half smile came to the other’s lips.
“And it is this—boy who will defeat the master criminal of our time?”
“This—boy, as you say! But I sometimes fancy I see a shadow behind.”
“You mean?”
“Peel Edgerton.”
“Peel Edgerton?” said the Prime Minister in astonishment12.
“Yes. I see his hand in this.” He struck the open letter. “He’s there—working in the dark, silently, unobtrusively. I’ve always felt that if anyonewas to run Mr. Brown to earth, Peel Edgerton would be the man. I tell youhe’s on the case now, but doesn’t want it known. By the way, I got ratheran odd request from him the other day.”
“Yes?”
“He sent me a cutting from some American paper. It referred to a man’sbody found near the docks in New York about three weeks ago. He askedme to collect any information on the subject I could.”
“Well?”
Carter shrugged13 his shoulders.
“I couldn’t get much. Young fellow about thirty-five—poorly dressed—face very badly disfigured. He was never identified.”
“And you fancy that the two matters are connected in some way?”
“Somehow I do. I may be wrong, of course.”
There was a pause, then Mr. Carter continued:
“I asked him to come round here. Not that we’ll get anything out of himhe doesn’t want to tell. His legal instincts are too strong. But there’s nodoubt he can throw light on one or two obscure points in young Beres-ford’s letter. Ah, here he is!”
The two men rose to greet the newcomer. A half whimsical thoughtflashed across the Premier’s mind. “My successor, perhaps!”
“We’ve had a letter from young Beresford,” said Mr. Carter, coming tothe point at once. “You’ve seen him, I suppose?”
“You suppose wrong,” said the lawyer.
“Oh!” Mr. Carter was a little nonplussed14.
Sir James smiled, and stroked his chin.
“He rang me up,” he volunteered.
“Would you have any objection to telling us exactly what passedbetween you?”
“Not at all. He thanked me for a certain letter which I had written to him—as a matter of fact, I had offered him a job. Then he reminded me ofsomething I had said to him at Manchester respecting that bogus telegramwhich lured15 Miss Cowley away. I asked him if anything untoward16 had oc-curred. He said it had—that in a drawer in Mr. Hersheimmer’s room hehad discovered a photograph.” The lawyer paused, then continued: “Iasked him if the photograph bore the name and address of a Californianphotographer. He replied: ‘You’re on to it, sir. It had.’ Then he went on totell me something I didn’t know. The original of that photograph was theFrench girl, Annette, who saved his life.”
“What?”
“Exactly. I asked the young man with some curiosity what he had donewith the photograph. He replied that he had put it back where he foundit.” The lawyer paused again. “That was good, you know—distinctly good.
He can use his brains, that young fellow. I congratulated him. The discov-ery was a providential one. Of course, from the moment that the girl inManchester was proved to be a plant everything was altered. Young Beres-ford saw that for himself without my having to tell it him. But he felt hecouldn’t trust his judgment17 on the subject of Miss Cowley. Did I think shewas alive? I told him, duly weighing the evidence, that there was a verydecided chance in favour of it. That brought us back to the telegram.”
“Yes?”
“I advised him to apply to you for a copy of the original wire. It had oc-curred to me as probable that, after Miss Cowley flung it on the floor, cer-tain words might have been erased18 and altered with the express intentionof setting searchers on a false trail.”
Carter nodded. He took a sheet from his pocket, and read aloud:
Come at once, Astley Priors, Gatehouse, Kent. Great de-velopments—Tommy.
“Very simple,” said Sir James, “and very ingenious. Just a few words toalter, and the thing was done. And the one important clue they over-looked.”
“What was that?”
“The page boy’s statement that Miss Cowley drove to Charing19 Cross.
They were so sure of themselves that they took it for granted he had madea mistake.”
“Then young Beresford is now?”
“At Gatehouse, Kent, unless I am much mistaken.”
Mr. Carter looked at him curiously20.
“I rather wonder you’re not there too, Peel Edgerton?”
“Ah, I’m busy on a case.”
“I thought you were on your holiday?”
“Oh, I’ve not been briefed. Perhaps it would be more correct to say I’mpreparing a case. Anymore facts about that American chap for me?”
“I’m afraid not. Is it important to find out who he was?”
“Oh, I know who he was,” said Sir James easily. “I can’t prove it yet—butI know.”
The other two asked no questions. They had an instinct that it would bemere waste of breath.
“But what I don’t understand,” said the Prime Minister suddenly, “ishow that photograph came to be in Mr. Hersheimmer’s drawer?”
“Perhaps it never left it,” suggested the lawyer gently.
“But the bogus inspector21? Inspector Brown?”
“Ah!” said Sir James thoughtfully. He rose to his feet, “I mustn’t keepyou. Go on with the affairs of the nation. I must get back to—my case.”
Two days later Julius Hersheimmer returned from Manchester. A notefrom Tommy lay on his table:
Dear Hersheimmer,
Sorry I lost my temper. In case I don’t see you again,good-bye. I’ve been offered a job in the Argentine, andmight as well take it.
Yours,
Tommy Beresford.
A peculiar22 smile lingered for a moment on Julius’s face. He threw theletter into the wastepaper basket.
“The darned fool!” he murmured.

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1
harassed
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adj. 疲倦的,厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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2
ass
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n.驴;傻瓜,蠢笨的人 | |
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3
sprawling
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adj.蔓生的,不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 );蔓延;杂乱无序地拓展;四肢伸展坐着(或躺着) | |
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4
sham
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n./adj.假冒(的),虚伪(的) | |
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5
scent
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n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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6
outright
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adv.坦率地;彻底地;立即;adj.无疑的;彻底的 | |
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7
shamming
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假装,冒充( sham的现在分词 ) | |
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8
stunt
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n.惊人表演,绝技,特技;vt.阻碍...发育,妨碍...生长 | |
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9
vaults
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n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 );地下室;撑物跳高;墓穴 | |
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10
stamina
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n.体力;精力;耐力 | |
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11
mused
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v.沉思,冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 );沉思自语说(某事) | |
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12
astonishment
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n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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13
shrugged
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vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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14
nonplussed
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adj.不知所措的,陷于窘境的v.使迷惑( nonplus的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
lured
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吸引,引诱(lure的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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16
untoward
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adj.不利的,不幸的,困难重重的 | |
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17
judgment
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n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
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18
erased
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v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 );抹去;清除 | |
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19
charing
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n.炭化v.把…烧成炭,把…烧焦( char的现在分词 );烧成炭,烧焦;做杂役女佣 | |
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20
curiously
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adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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21
inspector
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n.检查员,监察员,视察员 | |
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22
peculiar
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adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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