“I am afraid they are, Tommy,” I said; “and it strikes me that it must be fairly useful mischief if we’re right about Mr. Bruce Latimer.  By the way, does Joyce know?”

Tommy nodded.  “She’s right up to date:  I’ve told her everything.  The question is, how much has that affair got to do with us?  It’s quite possible, if they’re the sort of scoundrels they seem to be, that they might be up against the Secret Service in some way quite apart from their dealings with you.”

“By Jove, Tommy!” I exclaimed, “I never thought of that.  One’s inclined to get a bit egotistical when one’s an escaped murderer.”

“It was Joyce’s idea,” admitted Tommy modestly, “but it’s quite likely there’s something in it.  Of course we’ve no proof at present one way or the other.  What do you think this girl—­what’s her name—­Sonia—­means to do?”

I shrugged my shoulders.  “Goodness knows,” I said.  “It looks as if there was a chance of making a big immediate profit on my invention, and that she intended me to scoop it in instead of her father and McMurtrie.  I can’t think of anything else.”

Tommy pulled up a fresh plate and helped himself to some cheese.

“She must be pretty keen on you,” he observed.

“Well, you needn’t rub it in, Tommy,” I said.  “I feel quite enough of a cad as it is.”

“You’re not,” interrupted Joyce indignantly.  “If she really loves you, of course she wants to help you whether you love her or not.”

“Still, she’ll expect a quid pro quo,” persisted Tommy.

“Then it isn’t love,” returned Joyce scornfully, “and in that case there’s no need to bother about her.”

This seemed a most logical point of view, and I determined to adopt it for the future if my conscience would allow me.

“What about your invention?” asked Tommy.  “How long will it take you to work it out?”

“Well, as a matter of fact,” I said, “it is worked out—­as much as any invention can be without being put to a practical test.  I was just on that when the smash came.  I had actually made some of the powder and proved its power, but I’d never tried it on what one might call a working basis.  If they’ve given me all the things I want, I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t fix it up in two or three days.  There’s no real difficulty in its manufacture.  I wasn’t too definite with McMurtrie.  I thought it best to give myself a little margin.”

Tommy nodded.  “You’ve handled the whole thing splendidly up till now,” he said.  “I rather think it’s the ticklish part that’s coming, though.”  Then he paused.  “Look here!” he added suddenly.  “I’ve got a great notion.  Why shouldn’t we run down tomorrow in the Betty and have a squint at this place of yours?  There’s nothing like taking a few soundings when you’re not too sure about things.”

I drew in a deep breath.  “I’d love to, Tommy,” I said, “but it’s rather asking for trouble, isn’t it?  Suppose there was still someone about there?  If McMurtrie had the faintest idea I’d given away the show—­”