andy than they
could possibly sell? Well, I've found out how they are getting rid of
the surplus."

Willis looked his question.

"They are selling it round to other houses. They have three men doing
nothing else. They go in and buy anything from a bottle up to three or
four kegs, and there is always a good reason for the purchase. Usually
it is that they represent a publican whose stock is just out, and
who wants a quantity to keep him going. But the point is that all the
purchases are perfectly in order. They are openly made and the full
price is paid. But, following it up, I discovered that there is
afterwards a secret rebate. A small percentage of the price is refunded.
This pays everyone concerned and ensures secrecy."

Willis nodded.

"It's well managed all through," he commented. "They deserved to
succeed."

"Yes, but they're not going to. All the same my discoveries won't help
you. I'm satisfied that none of these people know anything of the main
conspiracy."

Early on the following morning Willis was once more at work. Dawn had
not completely come when he motored from the city to the end of the
Ferriby lane. Ten minutes after leaving his car he was in the ruined
cottage. There he unearthed his telephone from the box in which he
had hidden it, and took up his old position at the window, prepared to
listen in to whatever messages might pass.

He had a longer vigil than on previous occasions, and it was not until
nearly four that he saw Archer lock the door of his office and move
towards the filing-room. Almost immediately came Benson's voice calling:
"Are you there?"

They conversed as before for a few minutes. The Girondin, it appeared,
had arrived some hours previously with a cargo of "1375." It was clear
that the members of the syndicate had agreed never to mention the word
"gallons." It was, Willis presumed, a likely enough precaution against
eavesdroppers, and he thought how much sooner both Hilliard and himself
would have guessed the real nature of the conspiracy, had it not been
observed.

Presently they came to the subject about which Willis was expecting to
hear. Beamish, the manager explained, was there and wished to speak to
Archer.

"That you, Archer?" came in what Willis believed he recognized as the
captain's voice. "I've had rather a nasty jar, a letter from Madeleine
Coburn. Wants Coburn's share in the affair, and hints at knowledge of
what we're really up to. Reads as if she was put