overhear anything they might have to say to each other.

That, and the discovery of the new-comer's identity, might prove
to be of the utmost importance.

"I can't explain now," he said hurriedly. "I'll see you tomorrow
sometime. Don't do anything till you hear from me. Your life may
depend on it--and other people's lives that matter more."

"Tell me who you are first," Clive said quickly, incautiously
raising his voice. "I can manage to take care of myself all right,
I think, but I want to know who you are."

"H-ssh!" muttered Dunn. "Not so loud."

"There was a fellow made an attack on me one night a little while
ago," Clive went on unheedingly. "You remind me of him somehow.
I don't think I trust you, my man. I think you had better come
along to the police with me."

But Dunn's sharp ears had caught the sound of the house door
opening cautiously, and he guessed that Deede Dawson had taken
the alarm and was creeping out to see who invaded so late at night
the privacy of his garden.

"Clear out quick! Quiet! If you want to go on living. I'll stop
them from following if I can. If you make the least noise you're
done for."

Most likely the man they had seen in his company would be with him,