He decided that the business was doubtless some kind of minor gang warfare, and his own part in it must be entirely accidental. By some mistake he had been knocked down and collected instead of the man they had called “Duds.” Doubtless they were taking him somewhere now with the idea of questioning him.
The Gaffer. The words returned to him suddenly. That was it, of course. He was on the track of Duds’ employer at last. In spite of his discomfort he felt a deep satisfaction. He had made up his mind to solve the mystery which had been upsetting his life, and he seemed well on the way at last. The method was bizarre enough, goodness knew, but at least he appeared to have landed in the heart of the matter. The thought that he might be in actual danger did not occur to him. London is still a
