for London.

Which is just as well, as it happened, for it was with Borkins that Cleek
and Dollops were most concerned. Upon the probability of their friendship
with the butler hung the chance of their getting work. They had left Mr.
Narkom to go up to London and keep his eyes open for any clues in the
bank robberies case, and had promised to report to him as soon as
possible, if there were anything to be gleaned at the factory. Mr. Narkom
had expressed his doubts about it, had told Cleek that he really did not
see how any human agency could possibly get Nigel Merriton off, with such
appalling evidence to damn him. And what an electrical factory could have
to do with it...!

"You forget the good Borkins's connection with the affair," returned
Cleek, a trifle sharply, "and you forget another thing. And that is, that
I have found the man who attempted my life, and mean eventually to come
to grips with him. That is the only reason why I did not speak at the
inquest this afternoon. I am going to bide my time, but I'll have the
beggar in the end. If working for a time at an electrical factory is
going to help on matters, then work there I'm going to, and Dollops with
me....

"If there should be need of me, don't forget that I am Bill Jones,
sailorman, once of Jamaica, now of the Factory, Saltfleet. And stick to
the code. A wire will fetch me." He hopped out upon the platform just
here, in his "cut-throat" make-up--a little hastily done, for the time
between the stations had been short--but excellent, nevertheless; then as
Mr. Narkom gripped his hand, he put his head into the carriage again.

"My love to Ailsa if you see her, and tell her all goes well with me,
like a good friend!" whispered Cleek, softly.

Mr. Narkom nodded, waved his hand, and then the two navvies swung away
from the train, gave up their tickets to the porter--having procured
third-class as well as first for just this very arrangement--and after
enquiring just how far it was to Saltfleet Bay, and learning that it was
a matter of "two mile and a 'arf by road, and a couple o' mile by the
fields," strode off through the little gate and on to the highroad. Just
how adventurous their quest was going to turn out to be even they did not
fully realize.

They reached the outskirts of the bay, just as a clock in the church
tower half a mile away struck out nine, in deep-throated, sonorous tones.

To the right of them the "Pig and Whistle" flaunted its lights