A small page-boy was waiting outside her own door when she returned to
it.

"Telegram for you, miss."

Tuppence took it from the salver, and tore it open carelessly. Then she
gave a cry. The telegram was from Tommy!

CHAPTER XVI. FURTHER ADVENTURES OF TOMMY

FROM a darkness punctuated with throbbing stabs of fire, Tommy dragged
his senses slowly back to life. When he at last opened his eyes, he was
conscious of nothing but an excruciating pain through his temples. He
was vaguely aware of unfamiliar surroundings. Where was he? What had
happened? He blinked feebly. This was not his bedroom at the Ritz. And
what the devil was the matter with his head?

"Damn!" said Tommy, and tried to sit up. He had remembered. He was in
that sinister house in Soho. He uttered a groan and fell back. Through
his almost-closed lids he reconnoitred carefully.

"He is coming to," remarked a voice very near Tommy's ear. He recognized
it at once for that of the bearded and efficient German, and lay
artistically inert. He felt that it would be a pity to come round too
soon; and until the pain in his head became a little less acute, he felt
quite incapable of collecting his wits. Painfully he tried to puzzle out
what had happened. Obviously somebody must have crept up behind him as
he listened and struck him down with a blow on the head. They knew
him now for a spy, and would in all probability give him short shrift.
Undoubtedly he was in a tight place. Nobody knew where he was, therefore
he need expect no outside assistance, and must depend solely on his own
wits.

"Well, here goes," murmured Tommy to himself, and repeated his former
remark.

"Damn!" he observed, and this time succeeded in sitting up.

In a minute the German stepped forward and placed a glass to his lips,
with the brief command "Drink." Tommy obeyed. The potency of the draught
made him choke, but it cleared his brain in a marvellous manner.

He was lying on a couch in the room in which the meeting had been held.
On one side of him was the German, on the other the villainous-faced
doorkeeper who had let him in. The others were grouped together at a
little distance away. But Tommy missed one face. The man known as Number
One was no longer of the company.

"Feel better?" asked the German, as he removed the empty glass.

"Yes, thanks," returned Tommy cheerfully.

"Ah, my young friend, it is lucky for you your skull is so thick. The
good Conrad struck hard." He i