wers to the name of Bessie. You will find out?"

"Yes, I'll find out. But Mrs. Biggleswade never lets her speak to
anyone. I must think it out."

With that Tinker sat down; set his elbows on his knees, his chin on his
hands; and plunged into deep thought. His father sat equally
thoughtful; and their similar employment brought out extraordinarily
their strong likeness, for all that Tinker was a fair, angel child, and
his father's face as dark and proud and stern as Lucifer's.

For a long while neither said a word, nor moved. Sir Tancred was
trying to see how to work the affair on seven shillings, and debating
whether to call in the help of the police. Instinct assured him that
he had no time to lose, no time to walk to Beachley and pawn his watch,
that he must not lose sight of them, and in delicate matters he relied
chiefly on instinct. Mr. Biggleswade would not have looked so
triumphant, had not the 4000 pound reward satisfied him; it seemed
likely that he would leave for town that very day. On the other hand,
Sir Tancred was averse to going to the police; he knew what the
provincial police were. What was excellent evidence to him would seem
no evidence at all to them; and they would move too late, or, if they
moved in time, would muddle the whole business, and let the
Biggleswades know they were suspected. Besides, it hurt his self-love
to seek aid from anyone. No, the proper game was to rob the robbers,
and he had seven shillings to play it with.

Suddenly Tinker stirred. "I'm going to try now," he said.

Sir Tancred looked at the Biggleswades. Mr. Biggleswade lay sprawled
on his back, a handkerchief spread over his face; and mellowed by the
distance, the music of a long-drawn snore murmured over the sands.
Mrs. Biggleswade was nodding over a book.

Tinker rose, bade Blazer stay where he was; and walked off towards the
hotel. Sir Tancred twisted round his chair, tore a hole in his _Daily
Telegraph_, and watched him. Tinker fetched a circuit to within a
hundred yards of the backs of the Biggleswades, threw his straw hat on
the sand, dropped on to his stomach, and began to squirm along towards
them, taking advantage of every ridge and hollow. It was a long
business, but at last he lay in a hollow thirty yards away. He raised
his head cautiously, and in a low, clear voice said, "Bessie."

The little girl sprang to her feet, and stared about her wildly.
Tinker dropped his head and lay still. Mrs.