"Have you any clue to the assassin?" he asked.
Jennings shrugged his shoulders. "I can't say that. But I
suspect the coiners have something to do with the matter."
"The coiners?"
"Ah! I know you have not learned much about them. I have no
time now to talk, but you will see everything in the papers
shortly. I can tell you, Mallow, there's going to be a row."
Mallow, like all young Englishmen, was fond of fighting, and
his blood was at once afire to join in, but, on second
thoughts, he resolved to stick to his original determination
and stay away. It would be better, he thought, to let
Jennings carry out his plans unhampered. In order, therefore,
to preserve Basil's secret, Mallow nodded to the detective and
went home. That night he spent wondering what had become of
Maraquito.
Meantime, Jennings, with a dozen men, was on his way to
Rexton. It was now after eleven, and the clock struck the
half hour as they landed at Rexton Station. The police force
of the suburb had been notified of the raid about to be made,
and Inspector Twining was on the spot. He guided the party
through the side path which terminated near Rose Cottage. The
night was dark and rainy, but there were occasional gleams of
moonlight. There was no light in the windows of Rose Cottage,
and everything appeared to be quiet. Behind loomed the ruins
of the unfinished house beneath which was the coining factory.
On the way to the spot Jennings conversed with Twining in low
tones and detailed his experience with Maraquito.
Pages:
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282