hich you have described.
They know there must be a cellar behind. They hide close by; they see
the porthole lighted up; they watch the pipe go in, all exactly as
you have said. There can be no doubt brandy is secretly loaded at the
Lesque."

"It seemed the likely thing, sir," Willis commented.

"Ah, but it was good to think of. I wish to congratulate you on finding
it out." M. Max made a little bow. "But to continue. My men wonder how
the brandy reaches the sawmill. Soon they think that the lorries must
bring it. They think so for two reasons. First, they can find no other
way. The lorries are the only vehicles which approach; nothing goes by
water; there cannot be a tunnel, because there is no place for the
other end. There remains only the lorries. Second, they think it is the
lorries because the drivers change the numbers. It is suspicious, is it
not? Yes? You understand me?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"Good. My men then watch the lorries. They get help from the police at
Bordeaux. They find the firewood trade is a nothing." M. Max shrugged
his shoulders. "There are five firms to which the lorries go, and of the
five, four--" His gesture indicated a despair too deep for words. "To
serve them, it is but a blind; so my men think. But the fifth firm, it
is that of Raymond Fils, one of the biggest distilleries of Bordeaux.
That Raymond Fils are sending out the brandy suggests itself to my men.
At last the affair marches."

M. Max paused, and Willis bowed to signify his appreciation of the point.

"My men visit Raymond Fils. They search into everything. They find the
law is not broken. All is in order. They are satisfied."

"But, sir, if these people are smuggling brandy into England--" Willis
was beginning when the other interrupted him.

"But yes, monsieur, I grasp your point. I speak of French law; it is
different from yours. Here duty is not charged on just so much spirit
as is distilled. We grant the distiller a license, and it allows him to
distill any quantity up to the figure the license bears. But, monsieur,
Raymond Fils are--how do you say it?--well within their limit? Yes? They
do not break the French law."

"Therefore, sir, you mean you cannot help further?"

"My dear monsieur, what would you? I have done my best for you. I make
inquiries. The matter is not for me. With the most excellent wish to
assist, what more can I?"

Willis, realizing he could get no more, rose.

"Nothing, sir, except to accept o