"About four hours."

"That would have given them time to unload in Bordeaux?"

"Yes; an hour and a half, the same out, and an hour in the city.
Yes, that part of it is evidently right enough."

Again silence reigned, and again Merriman broke it with a question.

"You have no theory yourself?"

"Absolutely none."

"Do you think that driver mightn't have some private game of his
own on - be somehow doing the syndicate?"

"What about your own argument?" answered Hilliard. "Is it likely
Miss Coburn would join the driver in anything shady? Remember,
your impression was that she knew."

Merriman nodded.

"That's right," he agreed, continuing slowly: "Supposing for a
moment it was smuggling. How would that help you to explain this
affair?"

"It wouldn't. I can get no light anywhere."

The two men smoked silently, each busy with his thoughts. A certain