a newspaper
for me at the same time."

"Talkin' o' noos, sir," observed Mr. Gow with sudden interest,
"'ave you heard tell about the back o' Canvey Island bein' blown up
yesterday mornin'?"

"Blown up!" I repeated as we ran alongside. "Who on earth did that?"

Mr. Gow shook his head as he clambered on board after me. "No one
don't seem to know," he remarked. "'Twere done arly in the mornin',
they reckon. There's some as says 'tis the suffrinjettes, but to my
way o' thinkin' sir; it's more like to have somethin' to do with them
blarsted Dutchmen as sunk my boat."

"By Jove!" I exclaimed, "I wonder if it had. They seem to be
mischievous devils."

Mr. Gow nodded emphatically. "They are, sir, and that's a fact. 'Tis
time somebody took a quiet look round that house o' theirs, some day
when they ain't there."

How very nearly this desirable object had been achieved on the
previous evening I thought it unnecessary to mention, but I was hugely
relieved to learn that so far there was no suspicion as to who was
really responsible for the damage to the creek. Apart from the
inconvenience which it would have entailed, to be arrested for blowing
up a bit of mud in a Thames backwater would have been a sad come-down
for a convicted murderer!

As soon as he had provided me with some breakfast, Mr. Gow departed
for Tilbury with my letter to McMurtrie in his pocket. He was away for
a couple of hours, returning with a copy of the _Daily Mail_ and the
information that there were no letters for me at the post-office.

I handed him over the _Betty_, with instructions not to desert her
until he was relieved by either Tommy or Joyce or me, and then set off
for the hut by my usual route. It was less than thirty hours since
I had left it, but so many interesting things had happened in the
interval it seemed more like three weeks.

For any one entangled in such a variety of perils as I appeared to be,
I spent a surprisingly peaceful day. Not a soul came near the place,
and except for reading the _Mail_ and indulging in a certain amount of
hard thinking, I enjoyed the luxury of doing absolutely nothing. After
the exertion and excitements of the previous twenty-four hours, this
lull was exactly what I needed. It gave me time to take stock of my
position in the light of Latimer's amazing revelations--a process
which on the whole I found fairly satisfactory. If the likelihood of
proving my innocence still seemed a trifle remote, I had at