It was against Lambaire that his rage was directed. Lambaire, whose right-hand man he had been in a score of nefarious schemes. They had been together in bogus companies; they had dealt largely in “Spanish silver”; they had been concerned in most generous systems of forgery. The very notes that Lambaire had employed to fool him with were part of an old stock. The maker had committed the blunder of giving all the notes the same number. “They weren’t good enough for the public--but good enough for me,” thought Whitey, and set his jaw. The guard tried to make conversation, but his passenger had nothing to say, save “yes” or “no.” It was raining heavily when the train drew up at Chatham, and Whitey with his coat collar turned up, his hat pulled over his eyes and a handkerchief to his mouth, left the guard’s van and walked quickly along the train. The third-class carriages were sparsely filled. It seemed that the “winter excursion” was poorly patronized. Whitey gave little attention to the thirds--he had an eye for the first-class carriages, which were in the main empty. He found his man in the centre of the train--alone. He took him in with a glance of his eye and walked on. The whistle sounded and as the train began to glide from the platform he turned, opened the door of the carriage and stepped in. * * * * * There were other people who knew Lambaire was on the train. Amber came through Kent as fast as a 90-horse-power car could carry him. He might have caught the train at Penge had he but known. It would have been better for two people if he had. With him was a placid inspector from Scotland Yard--by name Fells. “We shall just do it, I think,” said Amber, looking at his watch, “and, anyway, you will have people waiting?” The inspector nodded. Speaking was an effort at the pace the car was travelling. He roused himself to the extent of expressing his surprise that Amber had troubled to take the journey. But Amber, who had seen the beginning of the adventure, was no man to hear the end from another. He was out to finish the business, or to see the finish. They reached the quay station as the excursion train came in and hurried along the slippery quay. Already the passengers were beginning their embarkation. By each gangway stood two men watching. The last passenger was aboard. “They could not have come,” said Amber disappointedly. “If----” At that moment a railway official came running toward them. “You gentlemen connected with the police?” he asked. “There’s something rum in one of these carriages....”--he led the way, giving information incoherently--“... gentleman won’t get out.” They reached the carriage and Amber it was who opened the door.... “Come along, Whitey,” he said quietly. But the man who sat in one corner of the carriage slowly counting two thick packages of bank-notes took no notice.