The Return Of Bulldog Drummond Read Online Free Page A

alone.”
    “By Jove! that’s possible,” said Darrell thoughtfully.
    “But, damn it – why should he go off with a bally convict?” demanded Jerningham.
    “Probably Morris dotted him one over the head,” said Drummond. “Then dragged him outside, and, hidden by the fog, stripped him. It’s the very point the warders mentioned: the first thing an escaped man does is to try to get civilian clothes.”
    “Then in that case the wretched bloke is probably lying naked in the shrubbery,” cried Jerningham. “We’d better have a search-party; though our chances of finding him, unless we walk on top of him, are a bit remote.”
    “Doesn’t matter: we must try,” said Drummond. “Got any lanterns, Ted?”
    “I expect Jennings can produce something,” answered the other. “Though I’m afraid it’s pretty hopeless.”
    He rang the bell, and as he did so there came from outside the sound of footsteps on the drive. All three stared at the window expectantly: was this Marton coming back? But it was one of the warders who materialised out of the mist, to be followed a moment or two later by his mate.
    “Beg your pardon, gentlemen,” he said, “but as I was passing I thought I’d let you know that Morris was seen about a quarter of a mile from here an hour ago. So warn your servants to keep the windows shut and the doors bolted.”
    “I’m rather afraid it’s a bit late, officer,” said Drummond. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, Morris has been here within the last quarter of an hour. And those” – he pointed to the marks of mud – “are his tracks.”
    “But what were you doing, sir?”
    “Helping Mr Jerningham to get his car out of the ditch. You remember that youngster who was here? Well, I left him in this room, and when I came back he was gone. And the only possible solution that I can think of is that Morris laid him out in order to get his clothes. We’re just going to have a search through the grounds now.”
    “I’ve told Jennings to get lanterns,” said Jerningham.
    “Possibly you’re right, sir,” said the warder. “He’d seize a chance like that. But there is another thing that may have happened: the young gentlemen may have joined his friends.”
    “What friends?” demanded Drummond.
    “Well, sir, just after me and my mate left you this afternoon and got into the main road we ran into two gentlemen walking along. So we stopped them and warned them about Morris. One of them, a great, big, powerful-looking man he was, began to laugh.
    “‘Thank you, officer,’ he says. ‘But if this guy Morris tries any funny stuff with me he won’t know whether it was a steam hammer or a motor lorry that hit him.’
    “‘No, sir,’ I answers, ‘you look as if you could take care of yourself – same as another gent I’ve just been talking to.’ Meaning you, sir, of course.” He turned to Drummond. “Well, he seemed interested like,” went on the warder, “and so I told him what had just happened – about the young gentleman being in such a panic and all that.
    “‘Can you describe him?’ says he, and when I done so he turns to his friend.
    “‘Quite obviously it’s the boy we were expecting,’ he says. ‘The poor lad must have lost his way in the fog. Up there, is he, officer? And what is the name of the house?’
    “‘Merridale Hall,’ I tells him. ‘You can’t miss it: you are only thirty yards from the entrance gate.’
    “And with that he says good afternoon and walks on. So I should think, sir, that in this case that is what happened: the young gentleman went off with his friends. Not that what you thought wasn’t very probable: Morris would stick at nothing. And, of course, you didn’t know anything about these two gents.”
    “No,” said Drummond slowly, “I didn’t. They did not, by any chance, say where they were stopping?”
    “No, sir, they didn’t. Well, good night, gentlemen: we must be getting along.”
    “The plot thickens,” said Drummond,