The fat man gasped a word to his comrade, and the Customs boat
stopped dead.
''E's all right,' said the man in the bows. 'If it's 'im you want, 'e's on
one o' them barges, so you've only got to step on and take 'im orf.'
'That's all,' said a voice out of the depths of the nearest barge, and
it was the voice of Jules, otherwise known as Mr Tom Jackson.
"Ear 'im?' said the fat man smiling. ''E's a good 'un, 'e is. But if I
was you, Mr Hazell, or you, sir, I shouldn't step on to that barge so
quick as all that.'
They backed the boat under the stem of the nearest barge and
gazed upwards.
'It's all right,' said Racksole to Hazell; 'I've got a revolver. How can
I clamber up there?'
'Yes, I dare say you've got a revolver all right,' Hazell replied
sharply.
'But you mustn't use it. There mustn't be any noise. We should
have the river police down on us in a twinkling if there was a
revolver shot, and it would be the ruin of me. If an inquiry was
held the Commissioners wouldn't take any official notice of the
fact that my superior officer had put me on to this job, and I should
be requested to leave the service.'
'Have no fear on that score,' said Racksole. 'I shall, of course, take
all responsibility.'
'It wouldn't matter how much responsibility you took,' Hazell
retorted; 'you wouldn't put me back into the service, and my career
would be at an end.
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