"Gone to the hills for a month or two," curtly replied the veteran servant, and then, on a silver tray, the butler decorously handed to Major Alan Hawke a sealed letter.

"I was to seek you out at the Club, sir, as this letter is important.

I take the liberty to give it to you now.

It was the master's orders: 'That I give it into your own hands!'" Major Alan Hawke's face darkened as he read the curt lines penned by Hugh Johnstone himself.

With a smothered curse he thrust the letter in his pocket.