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was a good deal older than he was, and rather much of the elder sister. And he didn't much like his brother-in-law - always referred to him as a pompous ass.”
    “So he is! One of our prominent industrialists - and how pompous can they get! So you don't think it likely that Bob Rawlinson would have confided an important secret to his sister?”
    “It's difficult to say - but no, I shouldn't think so.”
    “I shouldn't either,” said Colonel Pikeaway.
    He sighed. “Well, there we are. Mrs. Sutcliffe and her daughter are on their way home by the long sea route. Dock at Tilbury on the 'Eastern Queen' tomorrow.”
    He was silent for a moment or two, while his eyes made a thoughtful survey of the young man opposite him. Then, as though having come to a decision, he held out his hand and spoke briskly.
    “Very good of you to come.”
    “I'm only sorry I've been of such little use. You're sure that there's nothing I can do?”
    “No. No. I'm afraid not.”
    John Edmundson went out.
    The discreet young man came back.
    “Thought I might have sent him to Tilbury to break the news to the sister,” said Pikeaway. “Friend of her brother's - all that. But I decided against it. Inelastic type. That's the F.O. training. Not an opportunist. I'll send what's his name.”
    “Derek?”
    “That's right,” Colonel Pikeaway nodded approval. “Getting to know what I mean quite well, ain't you?”
    “I try my best, sir.”
    “Trying's not enough. You have to succeed. Send me along Ronnie first. I've got an assignment for him.”

Cat Among the Pigeons
    II
    Colonel Pikeaway was apparently just going off to sleep again when the young man called Ronnie entered the room. He was tall, dark, muscular, and had a gay and rather impertinent manner.
    Colonel Pikeaway looked at him for a moment or two and then grinned.
    “How'd you like to penetrate into a girls' school?” he asked.
    “A girls' school?” The young man lifted his eyebrows. “That will be something new! What are they up to? Making bombs in the chemistry class?”
    “Nothing of that kind. Very superior high-class school. Meadowbank.”
    “Meadowbank!” the young man whistled. “I can't believe it!”
    “Hold your impertinent tongue and listen to me. Princess Shaista, first cousin and only near relative of the late Prince Ali Yusuf of Ramat, goes there this next term. She's been at school in Switzerland up to now.”
    “What do I do? Abduct her?”
    “Certainly not. I think it possible she may become a focus of interest in the near future. I want you to keep an eye on developments. I'll have to leave it vague. I don't know what or who may turn up, but if any of our more unlikable friends seem to be interested, report it. A watching brief, that's what you've got.” The young man nodded.
    “And how do I get in to watch? Shall I be the drawing master?”
    “The visiting staff is all female.” Colonel Pikeaway looked at him in a considering manner. “I think I'll have to make you a gardener.”
    “A gardener?”
    “Yes. I'm right in thinking you know something about gardening?”
    “Yes, indeed. I ran a column on 'Your Garden' in the Sunday Mail for a year in my younger days.”
    “Tush!” said Colonel Pikeaway. “That's nothing! I could do a column on gardening myself without knowing a thing about it - just crib from a few luridly illustrated nurserymen's catalogues and a gardening encyclopedia. I know all the patter. 'Why not break away from tradition and sound a really tropical note in your border this year? Lovely Amabellis Gossiporia, and some of the wonderful new Chinese hybrids of Sinensis Maka foolia. Try the rich blushing beauty of a dump of Sinistra Hopaless, not very hardy but they should be all right against a west wall.'” He broke off and grinned. “Nothing to it! The fools buy the things and early frost sets in and kills them and they wish they'd stuck to wallflowers and forget-me-nots! No, my boy, I mean the real stuff. Spit on your hands and