The Pawns Count | Page 3

whole world's struggling for it,
Dick. The German chemists have been working night and day for three
years, just for one little formula, and I've got it! One of my shells,
which fell in a wood at daylight this morning, killed every living thing
within a mile of it. The bark fell off the trees, and the labourers in a
field beyond threw down their implements and ran for their lives. It's
the principle of intensification. The poison feeds on its own vapours.
The formula--I've got it in my pocket-book--"
"Look here, old fellow," Holderness interrupted, "it's all splendid, of
course, and I'm dying to hear you talk about it, but come along now and
be introduced to Miss Van Teyl. Molly's over there, waiting, and we're
all half starved."

"So am I," was the cheerful answer. "Hullo, Lutchester, how are you?
Just one moment. I must get a wash, I motored straight through, and I'm
choked with dust. Where do I go?"
"I'll show you," Lutchester volunteered. "Hurry up."
The two men sprang up the stairs towards the dressing-room, and
Holderness strolled back to where his sister and Pamela were talking to
a small, dark young man, with rather high cheek-bones and olive
complexion. Pamela turned around with a smile.
"I have found an old friend," she told him. "Baron Sunyea--Captain
Holderness. Baron Sunyea used to be in the Japanese Embassy at
Washington."
The two men shook hands.
"I was interested," the Japanese said slowly, "in your conversation just
now about that notice. Your young friend was telling you news very
loudly indeed, it seemed to me, which you would not like known across
the North Sea. Am I not right?"
"In a sense you are, of course," Holderness admitted, "but here at
Henry's--why, the place is like a club. Where are the enemies' ears to
come from, I should like to know?"
"Where we least expect to find them, as a rule," was the grave reply.
"Quite right," Lutchester, who had just rejoined them, agreed. "They
still say, you know, that our home Secret Service is just as bad as our
foreign Secret Service is good."
Holderness smiled in somewhat superior fashion.
"Can't say that I have much faith in that spy talk," he declared. "No
doubt there was any quantity of espionage before the war, but it's pretty
well weeded out now. I say, how good civilisation is!" he went on, his
eyes dwelling lovingly on the interior of the restaurant. "Tophole, isn't

it, Lutchester--these smart girls, with their furs and violets and
perfumes, the little note of music in the distance, the cheerful clatter of
plates, the smiling faces of the waiters, and the undercurrent of pleasant
voices. Don't laugh at me, please, Miss Van Teyl. I've three weeks
more of it, by George--perhaps more. I don't go up before my Board till
Thursday fortnight. Dash it, I wish Sandy would hurry up!"
"You never told me how you got your wound," Pamela observed, as the
conversation flagged for a moment.
"Can't even remember," was the careless reply. "We were all scrapping
away as hard as we could one afternoon, and nearly a dozen of us got
the knock, all at the same time. It's quite all right now, though, except
for the stiffness. It was the gas did me in.... What a fellow Sandy is!
You people must be starving."
They waited for another five minutes. Then Holderness limped towards
the stairs with a little imprecation. Lutchester stopped him.
"Don't you go, Holderness," he begged. "I'll find him and bring him
down by the scruff of the neck."
He strode up the stairs on a mission which ended in unexpected failure.
Presently he returned, a slight frown upon his forehead.
"I am awfully sorry," he announced, "but I can't find him anywhere. I
left him washing his hands, and he said he'd be down in a moment. Are
you quite sure that we haven't missed him?"
"There hasn't been a sign of him," Molly declared promptly. "I am so
hungry that my eyes have been glued upon the staircase all the time."
Pamela, who had slipped away a few moments before, rejoined them
with a little expression of surprise.
"Isn't Captain Graham here yet?" she asked incredulously.
"Not a sign of him," Holderness replied. "Queer set out, isn't it? We

won't wait a moment longer. Take my sister and Miss Van Teyl in, will
you?" he went on, laying his hand on Lutchester's shoulder. "Ferrani
will look after you. I'll follow directly."
The chief maitre d'hotel advanced to meet them with a gesture of
invitation, and led them to a table arranged for five. The restaurant was
crowded, and the coloured band, from the space against the wall on
their left, was playing a lively one-step. Ferrani was