ut Jerrold had vanished. The superintendent swore
softly.

"So that's why he kept us talking," he said. "He suspects something, and
wanted to keep us till he could send for a boat himself. We shall be a
regular procession if we don't stop that." He leaned over and spoke to
Green in the second boat. Immediately it slackened speed, and as the
launch came alongside the chief inspector swung deftly aboard.

"Where's Mr. Jerrold?" he demanded of the man at the wheel.

"Who's he?" was the gruff response.

"Come, you know who he is well enough. He's the man who's borrowed or
hired this craft, and he got on board just now. I want to speak to him.
If he has ordered you to follow us, let me tell you that I am a police
officer, and shall be justified in arresting you for obstructing me in
the execution of my duty if you are not careful."

"Hello, Mr. Green. Threatening the skipper? What's wrong?" said the
equable voice of Jerrold, emerging with cigarette between his teeth
through the sliding door of the saloon.

The detective swung round upon him angrily. "This isn't the game, Mr.
Jerrold. We can't have you following us like this."

The journalist gave a shrug. "Really? Do you object to me having a blow
on the river? Because I'm going on, in any case. I can't help it if
you're going the same way."

Green was helpless, and he knew it. Although he raged inwardly, he knew
that it would be unwise to arrest the journalist, though such a course
might be justified. Apart from the bad feeling such procedure might
create, there was the difficulty of establishing a case without
disclosing the object of their journey. It was a dilemma where diplomacy
might with advantage be employed. He smiled at the reporter.

"Mr. Jerrold, can't we settle this without quarrelling? We're on a queer
job, and you might spoil it all by hanging around. Leave us to it, and
if there's anything fit for publication you shall have first pull. Don't
ask me anything else and I'll promise you that."

"Honour?" queried Jerrold.

"Honour," repeated Green.

"Right you are. Slip off and we'll go back. Ring me up at the office."

The steam launch wheeled about as Green took his place in his own boat.
Both men were satisfied. Each knew that the other would not go back on
his word. The chief inspector's boat caught up with that which carried
Foyle and Wrington just below Waterloo Bridge. They were threading the
tiers of barges moored on the southern side. The g