voice held a hint of persuasiveness. "Suppose you tell me. . . ."
There was something very magnetic about Mr. Carter's personality. Tuppence seemed to shake herself free of it with an effort, as she said:
"We couldn't do that, could we, Tommy?"
But to her surprise, her companion did not back her up. His eyes were fixed on Mr. Carter, and his tone when he spoke held an unusual note of deference.
"I dare say the little we know won't be any good to you, sir. But such as it is, you're welcome to it."
"Tommy!" cried out Tuppence in surprise.
Mr. Carter slewed round in his chair. His eyes asked a question.
Tommy nodded.
"Yes, sir, I recognized you at once. Saw you in France when I was with the Intelligence. As soon as you came into the room, I knew"
Mr. Carter held up his hand.
"No names, please. I'm known as Mr. Carter here. It's my cousin's house, by the way. She's willing to lend it to me sometimes when it's a case of working on strictly unofficial lines. Well, now"—he looked from one to the other—"who's going to tell me the story?"
"Fire ahead, Tuppence," directed Tommy. It's your yarn."
"Yes, little lady, out with it."
And obediently Tuppence did out with it, telling the whole story from the forming of the Young Adventurers, Ltd., downwards.
Mr. Carter listened in silence with a resumption of
