ENTWISTLE'S DECISION
"So this is the coastguard station?" asked Billy Barcroft of his
youthful guide. "Any chance of getting a conveyance to the nearest
station Tongby, I believe?"
"I am afraid not, sir."
"Even this donkey might be pressed into service," continued the
flight-sub, indicating Butterfly, who, having been placed "under
arrest," was browsing on the green surrounding the flagstaff.
"Although I've had enough of donkeys to last me for some
considerable time."
Little knowing that the animal under discussion was the self-same
one that had given him the slip at Barborough, Billy, accompanied by
his two comrades, entered the detached building known as the
look-out house. The ground floor was utilised as a kind of store,
where arms and nautical gear were kept. Above was a large room
furnished like an office, in which was a telephone as well as a
large telescope mounted on a tripod so as to command a clear view of
the sea. Being night the windows were closely shuttered, while
double doors prevented any stray beams from escaping into the night.
"Up aloft, sir," said the scout. "I'll telephone through and see if
a trap or a car can be sent from Tongby. This is our mess room," he
explained. "There's a good fire going. Hullo! There's some one here
already. I think it's the gentleman who told us about the spy."
Seated on either side of the roaring fire were Peter Barcroft and
Philip Entwistle. The former's face was turned away from the door,
and at first Billy failed to recognise his parent. Nor did he the
vet., for Entwistle's face was elaborately and liberally embellished
with sticking-plaster, as the result of First Aid on the part of the
Scouts following their determined onslaught on the brink of the
cliff.
Entwistle had taken his gruelling in rightdown good part. He was
still under nominal arrest, for having been made a prisoner he could
only be released at the order of a superior officer. Already a
report had been telephoned through and a reply was momentarily
expected.
"I am not going to explain the whole business to you, Barcroft,"
said the vet, when Peter expressed his regret at the attack upon his
neighbour, and still more so his astonishment at finding him under
most peculiar circumstances on the cliff at Scarby. "Some day,
perhaps. I had information--no matter how--that some one was in
traitorous communication with enemy submarines. To bring home proofs
of the principal's guilt it was necessary to tackle his subordinate.
Unfortunately my plans were upset by the somewhat injudicious
intervention of these youngsters--commendable as regards pluck and
all that, but nevertheless it spoilt my investigations."
"I didn't know that you were in the detective line," remarked Peter.
Entwistle shrugged his shoulders.
"Perhaps I had better not commit myself by answering your question,"
he replied with a laugh that ended in a wince. It was no easy matter
to smile with one's face smothered with sticking-plaster. "I hope
you understand my reluctance to say anything more on the matter."
Peter nodded.
"All the same I shall look forward to the time when you are able to
emerge from your shell," he said.
"By the bye," remarked the vet, "you haven't told me what brought
you to this part of the world. It's taking a one-sided advantage
when I ask if _you_ are doing a bit of detective work."
"I was," admitted Mr. Barcroft.
Entwistle raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.
"Tracing the persons who stole my donkey--Butterfly," continued
Peter. "I had the tip that the animal had been taken to Bigthorpe.
Went there to follow up the clue, and strangely enough almost the
first man I met was Norton."
"What was he doing at Bigthorpe?"
"I hardly know. Said something about a nervous breakdown. He seemed
a bit upset, I thought."
"H'm!" Entwistle, gazed into the fire, deep in thought. "Is he
returning to Tarleigh?"
"He's there already, I presume," replied Peter. "However, that has
nothing to do with the case I am relating (Entwistle thought
otherwise, but refrained from audible comment). At Bigthorpe I found
that Butterfly had been sold to a man at Scarby, so on I came. Quite
by accident I met the fellow on the road, kept out of sight and
watched him go towards the cliffs. Went and had a look at his cart,
discovered it laden with petrol-cans, so I made off immediately to
inform the coastguard. The rest you know."
"As to that----" began the vet.
The door being opened interrupted his remarks. Turning his head to
see who the newcomers might be, he startled his companion by
saying--"Bless my soul, it's young Barcroft."
"Hullo, pater!" said Billy in astonishment. "You here? This is a
regular surprise." Peter got up from his chair.
"Pleased to see you, boy," he exclaimed. "As for the surprise, it's
nothing. To-day has been a day of surprises. What brings you
ashore?"
"We were in the destroyer that ran aground," explained the
flight-sub. "But let me introduce you to Fuller--you've often heard
me speak of him--and Bobby Kirkwood, who, as you know, was, and I
hope will continue to be, my observer."
"I thought you were in the 'Hippodrome,'" remarked Barcroft Senior,
after mutual introductions and when the three airmen had drawn their
chairs close to the comforting fire.
"Officially we are now--at the present moment," said Fuller.
"Unofficially we are toasting our toes on dry land. Before long we
hope to be up in the air; I think I am correctly interpreting the
wishes of my two energetic chums?"
Conversation was proceeding briskly when one of the Scouts, called
to the telephone, reported that a car was on its way to Scarby to
convey the airmen to Tongby, and that there was a train leaving the
little place at eight in the morning for Bigthorpe, whence by the
main line to the north they could reach Edinburgh by about noon.
"And this breaks up the party," quoth Billy as the motor drew up
outside the station. "Well, good-bye, pater. Sorry time has been so
short."
"Not so fast with your good-byes, my son," protested Peter.
"We--Entwistle and I--are going into Tongby by this car. It may be a
tight squeeze, but we'll risk that."
"But how about Butterfly?" asked Billy.
His father waved his hand deprecatingly.
"I've done with the brute," he replied. "She absolutely refused to
greet me. I'm going to make a present of her to these youngsters as
a kind of reminder of this night's work. If they don't want her, I
suppose there are plenty of people in this village glad to keep her.
Now, Entwistle, best leg forward. It's a long, long way to Tarleigh.
By Jove! you'll have to explain those scratches when you return to
your virtuous home."
Philip Entwistle merely responded with "Yes" with a preoccupied air.
His work in connection with the affair had only just begun. Although
a veterinary surgeon he was also an accredited member of the Secret
Service, and upon the _soi-disant_ Andrew Norton's arrival at
Tarleigh as a new resident he had been informed of the suspicious
nature of the newcomer. It was by design that he had misdirected
Barcroft in the matter of the wrong train on the eve of the
Barborough Zeppelin raid; but that was owing to the fact that he had
mistaken the occupier of Ladybird Fold for the suspect, von
Eitelwurmer.
Now arose the difficulty. Could he warn Barcroft of the dangerous
character of the spy, without prejudice to his plans? At present it
was undesirable, even on the damning evidence he had found at the
spy's house, to cause von Eitelwurmer to be arrested. Better to let
the fellow prosecute his activities a little longer, complete the
chain of evidence and rope in his accomplices, if any, than to make
the spy a prisoner without being able to make a clean sweep of all
his works. Premature action would mar the elaborate mass of evidence
that Entwistle was on the road to collect--evidence that would be
far-reaching as far as the network of German espionage in England
was concerned.
So for the present he decided to keep his own counsel regarding
Andrew Norton. Not even a hint would he throw out concerning the
tenant of The Croft. If he did so, Barcroft could not help showing
antipathy to his friend Norton, and the latter, scenting danger,
would be doubly wary.
Yet, knowing that there was a price on Peter Barcroft's head,
although he did not as yet connect Norton's presence at Tarleigh
with the Kaiser's blood-moneyed decree, Entwistle realised that he
would have to keep a watchful eye upon his newly-found friend in
order to guard him from the possibility of impending peril.