Chapter Twenty-Five

As the train approached the next stop, I rose and went to the rear of the car. Blathers went to the front. The stop was very brief. There was only one passenger waiting to board. The train began to start forward. One of the thugs was watching me, and one was watching Blathers. Momentum began to build, and Blathers yelled, “Look out!” and pointed to the rear of the car. At the same time I yelled, “Look out!” and pointed to the front of the car. Heads began to spin. The train gained speed, and my partner and I stood on the station platform, waving. “Ta-ta!”

Now, of course, we had increased peril to face. Persons who we believed were killers were chasing us. The authorities wanted us for escaping from jail, at the very least, and we had no idea where we were. Blathers, always the practical one said, “Let’s wait for the next train.” So wait we did.

The next local left Dover at half-five. The long time between trains offered an opportunity to review our situation and, at least mentally, make a list of the facts of the case as we knew them. There was, however, one thing bothering me. I asked, “Blathers, that fellow on the train talking to those two ruffians—did he look familiar to you?”

“Can’t say as he did, but he must have knowed us, ’cause there’s no doubt he pointed us out to them hooligans.”

This was not a good time to speak to Blathers about his grammatical errors, and there was one other thing we needed to discuss. “No doubt. Now, while we’re waiting, tell me about the diamonds you found.”

“It was a small bag tucked in a straw mattress on a cot in the loft. There are about five stones in it, and they all seem to be diamonds.”

“I wonder where Squod got those.”

“Probably stole them from the stash supposed to be at the inn.”

“It seems his killers must not have known there were any diamonds there.”

“Or else they had to leave in a hurry.”

“Well, let’s recapitulate what we know while we wait.”

“Sure, I never recapitulated afore. Do you have something to write on, so we has, have a list?”

“No!” I didn’t want to get into the old argument about the effectiveness of my methods. “We can just discuss what we know, and I’ll make a list later.”

“I’d prefer to discuss what we don’t know, if you please. Like who or what is this Order that seems to be causing all the trouble, with their little cross.”

“The clue is the little cross. I understand there are some semi-religious, semi-military groups that think they are descended from the Crusaders, and who use a cross like that as a symbol. I think it appears in the sign of the Black Lion because that was one of their meeting places. Squod was certainly a member, but that sign is older than he is.”

“Maybe the membership is passed down from father to son, and the Black Lion Inn was passed with it.”

“That could be the case. When Squod’s son was thought to be a killer…”

“Killer? You mean a bloody maniac.”

“Yes, maniac. In any event, when he disappeared, he probably forfeited his right, and perhaps Squod got in bad with the Order.”

“The Order, the Order. Who the devil is the Order? Do you think those ruffians are part of the Order?”

“I think they may be, or they may be hired thugs, but the fellow that met them on the train probably was part of the Order. I still think he was someone we know, but the clothing didn’t seem right. That full beard, it could have been a fake.”

“If ya see him again, let me know. I’ll walk up and yank on his whiskers.”