"Gray!" he
said sharply. "You leave with me now or I leave alone."
The two walked from the room, followed by Whiteleaf. As they
disappeared:
"Read out all the times mentioned in the last witness's evidence,"
directed Kerry, undisturbed by the rencontre.
Sergeant Coombes smiled rather uneasily, consulting his notebook.
"'At about half-past six I drove to Bond Street,'" he began.
"I said the times," rapped Kerry. "I know to what they refer. Just
give me the times as mentioned."
"Oh," murmured Coombes, "Yes. 'About half-past six.'" He ran his
finger down the page. "'A quarter to seven.' 'Seven o'clock.'
'Twenty-five minutes past seven.' 'Eight o'clock.'"
"Stop!" said Kerry. "That's enough." He fixed a baleful glance upon
Gunn, who from a point of the room discreetly distant from the
terrible red man was watching with watery eyes. "Who's the smart in
all the overcoats?" he demanded.
"My name is James Gunn," replied this greatly insulted man in a husky
voice.
"Who are you? What are you? What are you doing here?"
"I'm employed by Spinker's Agency, and--"
"Oh!" shouted Kerry, moving his shoulders. He approached the speaker
and glared menacingly into his purple face. "Ho, ho! So you're one of
the queer birds out of that roost, are you? Spinker's Agency! Ah,
yes!" He fixed his gaze now upon the pale features of Brisley.
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