at them, then hurried into an adjacent telephone box. He dared
not waste time in trying to get hold of Tuppence. In all
probability she was still in the neighbourhood of South Audley
Mansions. But there remained another ally. He rang up the Ritz
and asked for Julius Hersheimmer. There was a click and a buzz.
Oh, if only the young American was in his room! There was another
click, and then "Hello" in unmistakable accents came over the
wire.

"That you, Hersheimmer? Beresford speaking. I'm at Waterloo.
I've followed Whittington and another man here. No time to
explain. Whittington's off to Bournemouth by the 3.30. Can you
get there by then?"

The reply was reassuring.

"Sure. I'll hustle."

The telephone rang off. Tommy put back the receiver with a sigh
of relief. His opinion of Julius's power of hustling was high.
He felt instinctively that the American would arrive in time.

Whittington and Boris were still where he had left them. If Boris
remained to see his friend off, all was well. Then Tommy fingered
his pocket thoughtfully. In spite of the carte blanche assured
to him, he had not yet acquired the habit of going about with any
considerable sum of money on him. The taking of the first-class
ticket to Bournemouth had left him with only a few shillings in
his pocket. It was to be hoped that Julius would arrive better
provided.