We got to the railway station with about half a minute to spare.  The train was fairly crowded, but a word from Latimer to the station-master resulted in our being ushered into an empty “first” which was ceremoniously locked behind us.  It was not a “smoker,” but with a fine disregard for such trifles Latimer promptly produced his cigar case, and offered us each a delightful-looking Upman.  There are certainly some advantages in being on the side of the established order.

Soothed by the fragrant tobacco, and with an exquisite feeling of rest and freedom, I lay back in the corner and listened to Latimer’s pleasantly drawling voice, as he described to me how he had accomplished his morning’s coup.

It seems that, accompanied by Tommy and his own man Ellis, he had arrived at Queenborough by the early train.  Instructions had already been wired through from London that the Sheppey police were to put themselves entirely at his disposal; and having commandeered a car, the three of them, together with our friend the sergeant, set off to the bungalow.  They pulled up some little distance away and waited for Guthrie, Latimer’s other assistant, who had been keeping an eye on the place during the night.  He reported that McMurtrie and Savaroff and von Bruenig had just put off in the launch, leaving the other two behind.

“I guessed they had gone to pay you a visit,” explained Latimer drily, “and it seemed to me a favourable chance of doing a little calling on our own account.”

The net result of that little call had been the bloodless capture of Hoffman and the other German spy, who had been surprised in the prosaic act of swallowing their breakfast.

Having been favoured by fortune so far, Latimer had promptly proceeded to make the best use of his opportunity.  It struck him that, whatever might be the result of their visit to me, the other members of the party were pretty sure to come back to the bungalow.  The idea of hiding behind the curtain at once suggested itself to him.  It was just possible that in this way he might pick up some valuable information before he was discovered, while in any case it would give him the advantage of taking them utterly by surprise.

His first step had been to tie up the prisoners, and pack them off in the car to Queenborough police station with Guthrie and the sergeant as an escort. (I should have loved to have heard his conversation with Hoffman while the former operation was in progress!) He then carefully removed all inside and outside traces of the raid on the bungalow, and picked out a couple of convenient hiding-places in the garden, where Tommy and Ellis could he in ambush until they were wanted.  A shot from his revolver or the smashing of the French window was to be the signal for their united entrance on the scene.

“Well, you know the end of the story as well as I do,” he finished, nicking off the ash of his cigar.  “Things could scarcely have turned out better, except for that unfortunate accident with McMurtrie.”  He paused.  “I wouldn’t have shot him for the world,” he added regretfully, “but he really left me no choice.”