"I don't think I would
remind you that there's a police station actually on this blessed
island. If there was a dive like Dougal's anywhere West it would be
raided as a matter of course. But to shut Dougal's would be to raise
hell. There are two laws in England, sir; one for Piccadilly and the
other for the Isle of Dogs!" He sipped his coffee with appreciation.
Jervis looked about him cautiously, and:
"That's George--the red-headed hooligan against the counter," he said.
"He's been liquoring up pretty freely, and I shouldn't be surprised to
find that he's got a job on tonight. He has a skiff beached below
here, and I think he's waiting for the tide."
"Good!" rapped Kerry. "Where can we find a boat?"
"Well," Jervis smiled. "There are several lying there if you didn't
come in an R.P. boat."
"We did. But I'll dismiss it. We want a small boat."
"Very good, sir. We shall have to pinch one!"
"That doesn't matter," declared Kerry glancing at Seton with a sudden
twinkle discernible in his steely eyes. "What do you say, sir?"
"I agree with you entirely," replied Seton quietly. "We must find a
boat, and lie off somewhere to watch for George. He should be worth
following."
"We'll be moving, then," said the Leman Street detective.
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