It
seemed a true bill.
"I shouldn't wonder if you're right," he said, "but of course one can't
do anything yet. You want a lot more evidence. Anyhow, we must play him
against Ripton, I suppose. Which is his study? I'll go and tell him
now."
"Ten."
Trevor knocked at the door of study Ten. Rand-Brown was sitting over
the fire, reading. He jumped up when he saw that it was Trevor who had
come in, and to his visitor it seemed that his face wore a guilty look.
"What do you want?" said Rand-Brown.
It was not the politest way of welcoming a visitor. It increased
Trevor's suspicions. The man was afraid. A great idea darted into his
mind. Why not go straight to the point and have it out with him here
and now? He had the League's letter about the bat in his pocket. He
would confront him with it and insist on searching the study there and
then. If Rand-Brown were really, as he suspected, the writer of the
letter, the bat must be in this room somewhere. Search it now, and he
would have no time to hide it. He pulled out the letter.
Pages:
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153