wrote their letters, and took the night train for Paris. Next
evening they were in London.

"I say," Hilliard remarked when later on that same evening they sat
in his rooms discussing their plans, "I believe we can find out
about the Girondin now. My neighbor on the next landing above is a
shipping man. He might have a copy of Lloyd's Register. I shall
go and ask him."

In a few moments he returned with a bulky volume. "One of the
wonders of the world, this, I always think," he said, as he began
to turn over the pages. "It gives, or is supposed to give,
information about everything over a hundred tons that floats
anywhere over the entire globe. It'll give the Girondin anyway."
He ran his finger down the columns. "Ah! what's this? Motor ship
Girondin, 350 tons, built and so on. 'The Landes Pit-Prop Syndicate,
Ferriby, Hull.' Hull, my son. There we are."

"Hull! I know Hull," Merriman remarked laconically. "At least, I
was there once."

"We shall know it a jolly sight better than that before we're
through, it seems to me," his friend replied. "Let's hope so,
anyway."

"What's the plan, then? I'm on, provided I have a good sleep at
home tonight first."

"Same here," Hilliard agreed as he filled his pipe. "I suppose Hull
by an early train tomorrow is the scheme."