"My son is away and has been away for several weeks, nor is there any likelihood you will meet him when ultimately he returns." Then to the glowering Jane who had answered the summons of the bell; "Kindly show this gentleman out." "Pray do not disturb yourself," said Mr. Bolt with dignity. "I can find my own way." And with astonishing speed for a man of his build he seized the handle and threw open the door of Mrs. Barraclough's bedroom. The action was deliberate since he desired to find out who might possibly be concealed in the inner room and its advantages were immeasurable for at the very moment his back was turned Anthony Barraclough, dusty and spent, stumbled in through the French window. Jane gave a short, stifled squeak and pointed and he was out again and ducking behind a rose bush before Bolt had time to turn and apologise for his mistake. "Show this gentleman through the gate and down the road," said Mrs. Barraclough in a voice that did not betray her excitement by a single tremor. "I thank you for your hospitality, dear lady," said the Reverend Prometheus, "and I trust I may have the pleasure of bettering our acquaintance." As he bowed himself out he discreetly dropped his gloves behind a cushion on the sofa. "This way, please," said Jane. "This way." CHAPTER 26. AMONG ALLIES. The door had scarcely closed upon the retreating masquerader when once again Barraclough slipped into the room. His clothes were white with dust, his eyes hollow and deep set, but around the corners of his mouth was just such a smile as any mother might hope to see. "Bless your sweet bobbed head," he whispered, throwing an arm affectionately about her shoulders. "Though why in blazes you entertain well known crooks to tea gets me wondering." "Oh, my dear, dear boy, wherever did you come from?" she cried, patting him all over to convince herself of his reality. "Down the chimney, mother, like Santa Claus." "But why and without a word?" "Hadn't a notion I was coming," he replied dropping on to the sofa and spreading out his legs. "I was whacked to the wide and had to stop somewhere and get me breath." The door was flung open and Flora and Jane burst in. "I say, that was a near shave," gasped the latter. "Where did you spring from?" "Somewhere t'other side of Plymouth. Keep your eye on the window, Flora. Don't want that old blackbird to get a view of me. Thanks! Fine. See him down the road, Jane?" "You bet." "It's damn bad luck him being here at all. When did he first show up?" "Last night." "There's been a mess-up somewhere and I was looking for a clean run home." "Home, dear?" "Um! Back to London. How's mother's old car going, Flora?" "Tiptop." "Good, I shall need it. I say, I apologise for not saying how-de-do but things have been moving today. Everyone feeling good? Fine. Lord, I'm tired." And he passed a hand tied with a bloodstained handkerchief across his brow.