with its brilliancy. A few small boats moved slowly near the
shore, while farther out an occasional large steamer came into
view going up the fairway to Goole. Every now and then trains
roared past, the steam hardly visible in the dry air.

The afternoon dragged slowly but not unpleasantly away, until about
five o'clock they observed the first sign of activity about the
syndicate's depot which had taken place since their arrival. The
door in the galvanized fence opened and five figures emerged and
slowly crossed the railway. They paused for a moment after reaching
the lane, then separated, four going eastwards towards the
distillery, the fifth coming north towards the point at which the
watchers were concealed. The latter thereupon moved out from their
hiding place on to the road.

The fifth figure resolved itself into that of a middle-aged man of
the laboring class, slow, heavy, and obese. In his rather bovine
countenance hardly any spark of intelligence shone. He did not
appear to have seen the others as he approached, but evinced
neither surprise nor interest when Hilliard accosted him.

"Any place about here you can get a drink?"

The man slowly jerked his head to the left.

"Oop in village," he answered. "Raven bar."

"Come along and show us the way and have a drink with us," Hilliard
invited.