a little late for dinner, Cook, so don't put on the potatoes
till the half hour."

"My mother," said Anthony, warningly.

With a curse and a growl Smith and Dirk backed away, pocketing their
weapons, as Mrs. Barraclough in a long motor cloak and veil came into the
room.

For a second she stood in the doorway, her eyes travelling from her son
to the two men and back again. From the astonishment on her features
Anthony read plainly enough that Flora and Jane had failed to find and
advise her of the danger.

At this perilous stage a false move might mean the loss of everything.
The one hope was to preserve a seeming of normality and at the same time
convey a message as to the real significance of the situation. And like
a flash came into his head a memory of boyhood scrapes and a mother who
had never failed him in the hour of need. He whipped out his white
handkerchief and with a single hand, an old conjuring trick, threw a knot
in the centre and dangled it before Mrs. Barraclough's eyes. No message
by wire or wireless ever reached its destination in quicker time than
that old S. O. S. of school boy fame. He saw her tap out the "received"
signal with a forefinger on the front of her cloak, then turned with a
wave of the handkerchief to introduce the visitors.

"Mother dear, these are two friends of mine, Sergeant Hammersmith and Mr.
Cappell." They were the first names to come into his head. He
added--"This is my mother, gentlemen, and I am sure you will be grieved
to hear she has lately suffered from very indifferent health."

To give herself a moment for reflection, Mrs. Barraclough removed her
veiled motor bonnet and put it on the couch. Then she turned and
descended upon Dirk with outstretched hands and a high pitched falsetto
that fairly rang with welcome.

"Oh, my dear Sergeant Hammer, this is indeed a pleasure. How very kind
of you to drop in. So few people drop in now-a-days; dropping in seems
to have quite dropped out and I do so dearly love seeing anyone from
Town. Of course we are so old world and out of the way down here that we
never see anyone--no one at all--nobody and to hear news direct from----"
She broke off abruptly, fixed her glasses and fell back in an attitude of
amazed rapture--"Anthony, dear, do look. Isn't Sergeant Picklesnip
exactly like the vicar--the old one, not the present incumbent, he's too
high for me. I do hope----" She descended upon Harrison Smith and wrung
him war