Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 31, 2025
Practically the entire control of the ring which had prevented Barraclough's escape on the preceding days had been in his hands. Earlier in the night he had received telephone instructions to call off his watchers and having done so he had driven over to Laurence's house to satisfy himself that all was in order. It was quite absurd he should be assailed by these feelings of doubt.
A sharp rise in the ground had perceptibly slackened the speed of Barraclough's mount and he reduced his lead still further by hanging on to the top gear a couple of seconds too long. The Ford, on the other hand, was beginning to improve and leapt at the hill eagerly. No more than fifty yards separated pursued from pursuer. Harrison Smith sat on the back of the driving seat and bided his time.
It was sheer criminal stupidity to have looked over the edge at his fallen commander. Maybe the angry scarlet of Dirk's complexion provoked Barraclough's attack and before the poor man had recovered from his surprise a heavy lobster pot came smashing down over his face with agonising force, the splintering basket-work playing havoc with his features.
Barraclough's hands went round the girl's shoulders and held them tight. They were shaking so. A clergyman passing down the road halted for a moment and peered over the yew hedge into the open windows of the room. But nobody took any notice of him and he couldn't hear the words that were spoken.
He caught the weight of the bag on his massive shoulders and, as though it were a pillow, slewed sideways and heaved it straight on to Barraclough's chest. And Barraclough's lungs emptied like a burst balloon. Next instant he felt himself lifted into mid air as though he were a child. "I've a damn good mind to pitch you through the window," said the man.
They had reached the front garden when the Ford car, making a considerable fuss about it, banged and snorted past the front gate. There are those perhaps who will condemn Mrs. Barraclough's action, but let them remember she was a mother.
"I can tell you 'oo'll be stiff ternight if he don't " The sentence was never finished, for from the hall outside came the sound of Mrs. Barraclough's voice: "I may be a little late for dinner, Cook, so don't put on the potatoes till the half hour." "My mother," said Anthony, warningly. With a curse and a growl Smith and Dirk backed away, pocketing their weapons, as Mrs.
Don't lose sight of him whatever happens." He slammed the door and settled down on the cushions. Pursuer and pursued threaded their way through the traffic to Waterloo Station. Anthony Barraclough's mother was seventy-eight and still a sport. She loved her garden, she loved her son and she loved adventure. She was very fond of life, of punctuality, of the church, and of good manners.
He realised the need to be very silent in all his actions since Barraclough's servant was in all probability sleeping on the premises and ex-service men of the regular army have an awkward knack of sleeping lightly. He closed the door without even a click from the latch, then turned up a standard lamp that stood on the writing table.
His big car deposited him at Crest Chambers at ten forty-five, a quarter of an hour before the time promised for Barraclough's arrival. The ever attentive Doran took his hat and coat, turned on the table lamp and provided him with a pack of Patience cards. "You look hopeful, sir," he remarked. "I always expect the best till I have knowledge of the worst," came the smiling rejoinder.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking