"I said the times," rapped Kerry. "I know to what they refer. Just
give me the times as mentioned."

"Oh," murmured Coombes, "Yes. 'About half-past six.'" He ran his
finger down the page. "'A quarter to seven.' 'Seven o'clock.'
'Twenty-five minutes past seven.' 'Eight o'clock.'"

"Stop!" said Kerry. "That's enough." He fixed a baleful glance upon
Gunn, who from a point of the room discreetly distant from the
terrible red man was watching with watery eyes. "Who's the smart in
all the overcoats?" he demanded.

"My name is James Gunn," replied this greatly insulted man in a husky
voice.

"Who are you? What are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm employed by Spinker's Agency, and--"

"Oh!" shouted Kerry, moving his shoulders. He approached the speaker
and glared menacingly into his purple face. "Ho, ho! So you're one of
the queer birds out of that roost, are you? Spinker's Agency! Ah,
yes!" He fixed his gaze now upon the pale features of Brisley. "I've
seen you before, haven't I?"

"Yes, Chief Inspector," said Brisley, licking his lips. "Hayward's
Heath. We have been retained by--"

"You have been retained!" shouted Kerry. "You have!"