nt only after considerable
trouble, and the difficulty of getting them again would be much greater.
And not the least annoying thing was that he, a London man, one, indeed,
of the best men at the Yard, had been made to look ridiculous in the
eyes of these provincial police!

Dog-tired and hungry though he was, he set his teeth and determined that
he would return to the cottage in the hope of learning the reason of his
failure from the conversation which he expected would take place between
Archer and Benson at a quarter to eleven that day.

Repeating, therefore, his proceedings of the previous morning, he
regained his point of vantage at the broken window. Again he watched the
staff arrive, and again observed Archer enter and take his place at his
desk. He was desperately sleepy, and it required all the power of his
strong will to keep himself awake. But at last his perseverance was
rewarded, and at 10.45 exactly he saw Archer bolt his door and disappear
towards the filing room. A moment later the buzzer sounded.

"Are you there?" once again came in Archer's voice, followed by the
astounding phrase, "I see you brought up that stuff last night."

"Yes, I brought up two hundred and fifty," was Benson's amazing reply.

Inspector Willis gasped. He could scarcely believe his ears. So he had
been tricked after all! In spite of his carefully placed pickets,
in spite of his own ceaseless watchfulness, he had been tricked. Two
hundred and fifty of the illicit somethings had been conveyed, right
under his and his men's noses, from the depot to the distillery. Almost
choking with rage and amazement he heard Archer continue:

"I had a lucky deal after our conversation yesterday, got seven hundred
unexpectedly planted. You may send up a couple of hundred extra tonight
if you like."

"Right. I shall," Benson answered, and the conversation ceased.

Inspector Willis swore bitterly as he lay back on the dusty floor
and pillowed his head on his hands. And then while he still fumed and
fretted, outraged nature asserted herself and he fell asleep.

He woke, ravenously hungry, as it was getting dusk, and he did not
delay long in letting himself out of the house, regaining the lane, and
walking to Ferriby Station. An hour later he was dining at his hotel in
Hull.

CHAPTER 16. THE SECRET OF THE SYNDICATE

A night's rest made Willis once more his own man, and next morning he
found that his choking rage had evaporated, and tha