one side and Salthouse on the other, and inland as far as
Dutchman's Common. I am not suggesting that there is any real
connection between your cable and this fact, but that you should
mention it at this particular moment--well, as I said, it's a
coincidence."

"Why?"

Furley had risen to his feet. He threw open the door and listened
for a moment in the passage. When he came back he was carrying
some oilskins.

"Julian," he said, "I know you area bit of a cynic about espionage
and that sort of thing. Of course, there has been a terrible lot
of exaggeration, and heaps of fellows go gassing about secret
service jobs, all the way up the coast from here to Scotland, who
haven't the least idea what the thing means. But there is a
little bit of it done, and in my humble way they find me an
occasional job or two down here. I won't say that anything ever
comes of our efforts--we're rather like the special constables of
the secret service--but just occasionally we come across
something suspicious."

"So that's why you're going out again to-night, is it?"

Furley nodded.

"This is my last night. I am off up to town on Monday and sha'n't
be able to get down again this season."