The girl looked at him, nodded, and then suddenly burst into tears. Julius patted her on the shoulder.
“There, there—just you sit tight. We’re not going to let you quit.”
Through her sobs the girl said indistinctly:
“You’re from home. I can tell by your voice. It makes me homesick.”
“Sure I’m from home. I’m your cousin—Julius Hersheimmer. I came over to Europe on purpose to find you—and a pretty dance you’ve led me.”
The car slackened speed. George spoke over his shoulder:
“Crossroads here, sir. I’m not sure of the way.”
The car slowed down till it hardly moved. As it did so a figure climbed suddenly over the back, and plunged head first into the midst of them.
“Sorry,” said Tommy, extricating himself.
A mass of confused exclamations greeted him. He replied to them severally:
“Was in the bushes by the drive. Hung on behind. Couldn’t let you know before at the pace you were going. It was all I could do to hang on. Now then, you girls, get out!”
“Get out?”
“Yes. There’s a station just up that road. Train due in three minutes. You’ll catch it if you hurry.”
“What the devil are you driving at?” demanded Julius. “Do you think you can fool them by leaving the car?”
“You and I aren’t going to leave the car. Only the girls.”
“You’re crazed, Beresford. Stark staring mad! You can’t let those girls go off alone. It’ll be the end of it if you do.”
Tommy turned to Tuppence.
“Get out at once, Tuppence. Take her with you, and do just as I say. No one will do you any harm. You’re safe. Take the train to London. Go straight to Sir James Peel Edgerton. Mr. Carter lives out of town, but you’ll be safe with him.”
“Darn you!” cried Julius. “You’re mad. Jane, you stay where you are.”
With a sudden swift movement, Tommy snatched the revolver from Julius’s hand, and levelled it at him.
“Now will you believe I’m in earnest? Get out, both of you, and do as I say—or I’ll shoot!”
Tuppence sprang out, dragging the unwilling Jane after her.
“Come on, it’s all right. If Tommy’s sure—he’s sure. Be quick. We’ll miss the train.”
They started running.
Julius’s pent-up rage burst forth.
“What the hell—”
Tommy interrupted him.
“Dry up! I want a few words with you, Mr. Julius Hersheimmer.”
XXV
Jane’s Story
Her arm through Jane’s, dragging her along, Tuppence reached the station. Her quick ears caught the sound of the approaching train.
“Hurry up,” she panted, “or we’ll miss it.”
They arrived on the platform just as the train came to a standstill. Tuppence opened the door of an empty first-class compartment, and the two girls sank down breathless on the padded seats.
A man looked in, then passed on to the next carriage. Jane started nervously. Her eyes dilated with terror. She looked questioningly at Tuppence.
“Is he one of them, do you think?” she breathed.
Tuppence shook her head.
“No, no. It’s all right.” She took Jane’s hand in hers. “Tommy wouldn’t have told us to do this unless he was sure we’d be all right.”
“But he doesn’t know them as I do!” The girl shivered. “You can’t understand. Five years! Five long years! Sometimes I thought I should go mad.”
“Never mind. It’s all over.”
“Is it?”
The train was moving now, speeding through the night at a gradually increasing rate. Suddenly Jane Finn started up.
“What was that? I thought I saw a face—looking in through the window.”
“No, there’s nothing. See.” Tuppence went to the window, and lifting the strap let the pane down.
“You’re sure?”
“Quite sure.”
The other seemed to feel some excuse was necessary:
“I guess I’m acting like a frightened rabbit, but I can’t help it. If they caught me now they’d—” Her eyes opened wide and staring.
“Don’t!” implored Tuppence. “Lie back, and don’t think. You can be quite sure that Tommy wouldn’t have said it was safe if it wasn’t.”
“My cousin didn’t think so. He didn’t want us to do this.”
“No,” said Tuppence, rather embarrassed.
“What are you thinking of?” said Jane sharply.
“Why?”
“Your voice was so—queer!”
“I was thinking of something,” confessed Tuppence. “But I don’t want to tell you—not now. I may be wrong, but I don’t think so. It’s just an idea that came into my head a long time ago. Tommy’s got it too—I’m almost sure he has. But don’t you worry—there’ll be time enough for that later. And it mayn’t be so at all! Do what I tell you—lie back and don’t think of anything.”
“I’ll try.” The long lashes drooped over the hazel eyes.
Tuppence, for her part, sat bolt upright—much in the attitude of a watchful terrier on guard. In spite of herself she was nervous. Her eyes flashed continually from one window to the other. She noted the exact position of the communication cord. What it was that she feared, she would have been hard put to it to say. But in her own mind she was far from feeling the confidence displayed in her words. Not that she disbelieved in Tommy, but occasionally she was shaken with doubts as to whether anyone so simple and honest as he was could ever be a match for the fiendish subtlety of the arch-criminal.
If they once reached Sir James Peel Edgerton in safety, all would be well. But would they reach him? Would not the silent forces of Mr. Brown already be assembling against them? Even that last picture of Tommy, revolver in hand, failed to comfort her. By now he might be overpowered, borne down by sheer force of numbers. … Tuppence mapped out her plan of campaign.
As the train at length drew slowly into Charing Cross, Jane Finn sat up with a start.
“Have we arrived? I never thought we should!”
“Oh, I thought we’d get to London all right. If there’s going to be any fun, now is when it will begin. Quick, get out. We’ll nip into a taxi.”
In another minute they were passing the barrier, had paid the necessary fares, and were stepping into a taxi.
“King’s Cross,” directed Tuppence. Then she gave a jump. A man
