"Can you leave town for a week or so, on a little job for me?"
briskly continued the Major.
"Ready money?" said "Gentleman Jack" Blunt, stroking out a pair of
glossy side whiskers.
"Yes, cash in plenty on hand, and lots more in sight," imperatively
replied the Major.
"Do I work with you, or alone?" asked Blunt.
"It's a little private investigation," replied Hawke, "and as I
have to leave town to-night, and spend a couple of months on the
Continent, you are the very man. I am afraid to appear in the thing
myself, as I am well known to the other parties, and so I fear being
followed over the Channel. I'm back again in the army." Jack's eyes
grew larger in a trice.
"Here comes the grub," gayly said Blunt. "You can trust the wine
here. The crib is square, too. Now, my boy, fire away. We are alone,
and no listeners here." Before Jack Blunt had put away a pint of
best "beeswing" sherry, he was aware of all Alan Hawke's intentions.
His keen brain was working all its "cylinders."
"Give me just five minutes to think it over, Governor," said the
sparkling-eyed, dark-faced, swell cracksman. "I know Jersey like a
book. I worked the 'summer racket' there once. The excursion boats,
the farmers' races, the Casino balls, the Military games, and the
whole lay. I think I can cook up a plan. You don't show up just
yet. I am to do the 'downy cove.'"
"Not till I can double on my track, and you have piped the whole
situation off," said Hawke.
Pages:
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382