THE SECRET ADVERSARY BY AGATHA CHRISTIE

note, on the outside of which was written: “Take this to the gentleman at the

inn near Astley Priors. He will give you ten shillings.”

The handwriting was Tuppence’s. Tommy appreciated her quick-wittedness in

realizing that he might be staying at the inn under an assumed name. He snatched

at it.

“That’s all right.”

The man withheld it.

“What about my ten shillings?”

Tommy hastily produced a ten-shilling note, and the man relinquished his

find. Tommy unfastened it.

“DEAR TOMMY,

“I knew it was you last night. Don’t go this evening. They’ll be lying in

wait for you. They’re taking us away this morning. I heard something about

Wales–Holyhead, I think. I’ll drop this on the road if I get a chance. Annette

told me how you’d escaped. Buck up. “Yours,

“TWOPENCE.”

Tommy raised a shout for Albert before he had even finished perusing this

characteristic epistle.

“Pack my bag! We’re off!”

“Yes, sir.” The boots of Albert could be heard racing upstairs. Holyhead?

Did that mean that, after all—-Tommy was puzzled. He read on slowly.

The boots of Albert continued to be active on the floor above.

Suddenly a second shout came from below.

“Albert! I’m a damned fool! Unpack that bag!”

“Yes, sir.”

Tommy smoothed out the note thoughtfully.

“Yes, a damned fool,” he said softly. “But so’s some one else! And at last

I know who it is!”

CHAPTER XXIV

JULIUS TAKES A HAND

IN his suite at Claridge’s, Kramenin reclined on a couch and dictated to

his secretary in sibilant Russian.

Presently the telephone at the secretary’s elbow purred, and he took up the

receiver, spoke for a minute or two, then turned to his employer.

“Some one below is asking for you.”

“Who is it?”

“He gives the name of Mr. Julius P. Hersheimmer.”

“Hersheimmer,” repeated Kramenin thoughtfully. “I have heard that name

before.”

“His father was one of the steel kings of America,” explained the

secretary, whose business it was to know everything. “This young man must be a

millionaire several times over.”

The other’s eyes narrowed appreciatively.

“You had better go down and see him, Ivan. Find out what he wants.”

The secretary obeyed, closing the door noiselessly behind him. In a few

minutes he returned.

“He declines to state his business–says it is entirely private and

personal, and that he must see you.”

“A millionaire several times over,” murmured Kramenin. “Bring him up, my

dear Ivan.”

The secretary left the room once more, and returned escorting Julius.

“Monsieur Kramenin?” said the latter abruptly.

The Russian, studying him attentively with his pale venomous eyes, bowed.

“Pleased to meet you,” said the American. “I’ve got some very important

business I’d like to talk over with you, if I can see you alone.” He looked

pointedly at the other.

“My secretary, Monsieur Grieber, from whom I have no secrets.”

“That may be so–but I have,” said Julius dryly. “So I’d be obliged if

you’d tell him to scoot.”

“Ivan,” said the Russian softly, “perhaps you would not mind retiring into

the next room—-”

“The next room won’t do,” interrupted Julius. “I know these ducal

suites–and I want this one plumb empty except for you and me. Send him round to

a store to buy a penn’orth of peanuts.”

Though not particularly enjoying the American’s free and easy manner of

speech, Kramenin was devoured by curiosity. “Will your business take long to

state?”

“Might be an all night job if you caught on.”

“Very good, Ivan. I shall not require you again this evening. Go to the

theatre–take a night off.”

“Thank you, your excellency.”

The secretary bowed and departed.

Julius stood at the door watching his retreat. Finally, with a satisfied

sigh, he closed it, and came back to his position in the centre of the room.

“Now, Mr. Hersheimmer, perhaps you will be so kind as to come to the

point?”

“I guess that won’t take a minute,” drawled Julius. Then, with an abrupt

change of manner: “Hands up–or I shoot!”

For a moment Kramenin stared blindly into the big automatic, then, with

almost comical haste, he flung up his hands above his head. In that instant

Julius had taken his measure. The man he had to deal with was an abject physical

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