n near Astley Priors. He will give you ten shillings."

The handwriting was Tuppence's. Tommy appreciated her quick-wittedness
in realizing that he might be staying at the inn under an assumed name.
He snatched at it.

"That's all right."

The man withheld it.

"What about my ten shillings?"

Tommy hastily produced a ten-shilling note, and the man relinquished his
find. Tommy unfastened it.

"DEAR TOMMY,

"I knew it was you last night. Don't go this evening. They'll be lying
in wait for you. They're taking us away this morning. I heard something
about Wales--Holyhead, I think. I'll drop this on the road if I get a
chance. Annette told me how you'd escaped. Buck up.

"Yours,

"TWOPENCE."

Tommy raised a shout for Albert before he had even finished perusing
this characteristic epistle.

"Pack my bag! We're off!"

"Yes, sir." The boots of Albert could be heard racing upstairs.
Holyhead? Did that mean that, after all----Tommy was puzzled. He read on
slowly.

The boots of Albert continued to be active on the floor above.

Suddenly a second shout came from below.

"Albert! I'm a damned fool! Unpack that bag!"

"Yes, sir."

Tommy smoothed out the note thoughtfully.

"Yes, a damned fool," he said softly. "But so's some one else! And at
last I know who it is!"

CHAPTER XXIV. JULIUS TAKES A HAND

IN his suite at Claridge's, Kramenin reclined on a couch and dictated to
his secretary in sibilant Russian.

Presently the telephone at the secretary's elbow purred, and he took up
the receiver, spoke for a minute or two, then turned to his employer.

"Some one below is asking for you."

"Who is it?"

"He gives the name of Mr. Julius P. Hersheimmer."

"Hersheimmer," repeated Kramenin thoughtfully. "I have heard that name
before."

"His father was one of the steel kings of America," explained the
secretary, whose business it was to know everything. "This young man
must be a millionaire several times over."

The other's eyes narrowed appreciatively.

"You had better go down and see him, Ivan. Find out what he wants."

The secretary obeyed, closing the door noiselessly behind him. In a few
minutes he returned.

"He declines to state his business--says it is entirely private and
personal, and that he must see you."

"A millionaire several times over," murmured Kramenin. "Bring him up, my
dear Ivan."

The secretary left the room once more, and returned escorting Julius.

"Monsieur Kramenin?