he place. But that was quite out of the
question.

Busch, it seemed, had lived in Hull for a considerable period. Inquiries
of his neighbours revealed that he was a well-known figure. He did but
little work, preferring to take long walks into the country.

One man told me that he had met him twice away near Spurn Head, at the
estuary of the Humber, and on another occasion he had seen him
wandering aimlessly along the low-lying coast in the vicinity of
Hornsea. In explanation of this, it seemed that he had once lived for a
whole summer in Withernsea, not far from Spurn Head, and had grown fond
of the neighbourhood. Everybody looked upon him as a harmless old man, a
trifle eccentric, and a great walker.

That constant rambling over that low-lying district of Holderness had
aroused my suspicions, and I determined to turn my attention to him.

One day the old man did not go to the factory, but instead went forth
upon one of his rambles. He took train from Hull to Hornsea, where the
railway ends at the sea, and walked along the shore for several miles;
indeed until he was three parts of the distance to Bridlington, when he
suddenly halted near the little village of Barmston, and producing a
neat pocket-camera took a long series of snap-shots of the flat coast,
where I saw there were several places which would afford an easy landing
for the invader.

The truth was in an instant plain. Old Busch was a "fixed-agent," who
was carrying on the same work along the Yorkshire coast as his ingenious
compatriots were doing in Norfolk, Suffolk, and Essex. The remainder of
that day I kept a sharp eye upon him, and witnessed him making many
notes and taking many photographs of the various farms and houses near
the sea. He noted the number of haystacks in the farmyards--for his
report on fodder stores, no doubt--and made certain notes regarding the
houses, of great use, no doubt, when the Germans came to billet their
troops.

It was not until nearly midnight that I was back at the hotel in Hull.
Then, by judicious inquiry of the hall porter--who had become my
particular friend--I ascertained that Gessner had left for London by the
last train.

Should I follow, or should I remain in Hull?

I decided upon the latter course, and retired to bed, thoroughly fagged
out.

Early next morning I went round to the telephone-exchange, rather than
use the instrument in the hotel, and rang up Raymond.

To my delight he answered my call. He