s," he said, "turn her round, and then
I'll cut out the engine and throttle her down. She'll make a certain
amount of row, but we can't help that. I daren't stop her; or she
might never start again."

We carried out our manoeuvre successfully, and then dropped over the
anchor to keep us in position. I seated myself on the roof of the
cabin, and pulling out a pipe, commenced to fill it.

"I wonder how long the interval is," I said. "I suppose spying is a
sort of job you can't fix an exact time-limit to."

Tommy looked at his watch again. "It's just on a quarter to ten now.
He told me not to wait after half-past."

I stuffed down the baccy with my thumb, and felt in my pocket for a
match.

"It seems to me--" I began.

The interesting remark I was about to make was never uttered. From the
high ground away to the left came the sudden crack of a revolver shot
that rang out with startling viciousness on the night air. It was
followed almost instantly by a second.

Tommy and I leaped up together, inspired simultaneously by the same
idea. Being half way there, however, I easily reached the painter
first.

"All right," I cried, "I'll pick him up. You haul in and have her
ready to start."

I don't know exactly what the record is for getting off in a dinghy in
the dark, but I think I hold it with something to spare. I was away
from the ship and sculling furiously for the shore in about the same
time that it has taken to write this particular sentence.

I pulled straight for the direction in which I had heard the shots.
It was the steepest part of the cliff, but under the circumstances it
seemed the most likely spot at which my services would be required.
People are apt to take a short cut when revolver bullets are chasing
about the neighbourhood.

I stopped rowing a few yards from the shore, and swinging the boat
round, stared up through the gloom. There was just light enough to
make out the top of the cliff, which appeared to be covered by a thick
growth of gorse several feet in height. I backed away a stroke or two,
and as I did so, there came a sudden snapping, rustling sound from
up above, and the next instant the figure of a man broke through the
bushes.

He peered down eagerly at the water.

"That you, Morrison?" he called out in a low, distinct voice, which I
recognized at once.

"Yes," I answered briefly. It struck me as being no time for elaborate
explanations.

Mr. Latimer was evidently of the same