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Well, I must hand it to ye for quick work.’ A chuckle; then, ‘Have you seen the Star ?’
    â€˜The Star ?’
    â€˜It’s our newspaper. There’s a picture in it would interest you. The puffer Maggie – the boat your cargo’s on.’
    While Pusey was listening to this, Marshall, following the trend of conversation, had pushed the front page of the Star before him. Pusey had time to read the headline and gain an impression of the photograph. ‘Very humorous, Mr Campbell, I’m sure!’
    â€˜No offence, Mr Pusey. I’m glad ye decided to come. There’s two people here would like to see ye.’
    â€˜Indeed!’
    â€˜Aye. There’s a reporter called Fraser, from the Star , and there’s a good lady who says she owns the Maggie .’
    â€˜Really! Well, I must say that, considering it was your fault that this fraud was perpetrated in the first place, I think it’s your duty to come here.’
    Campbell said with just a hint of Scottish granite, ‘Well, I don’t know if I like your tone, Mr Pusey.’
    â€˜I’m sorry about that.’
    â€˜I don’t think I understand you when you say that the CSS bears any responsibility in the matter.’
    â€˜Surely it’s clear enough.’
    â€˜And another thing,’ Campbell said, recovering his sense of humour, ‘when you were in my office the other day, did you by any chance take my fountain pen?’
    â€˜Really, Mr Campbell, I . . .’
    â€˜Here, let me speak to him.’ Marshall took the phone before any more valuable minutes could be wasted. He saidpleasantly, ‘Mr Campbell? Calvin B. Marshall speaking. I’m sorry to trouble you. We seem to be causing you quite a bit of bother . . . Yes, I’ve just come up to get things straightened out . . . Yes, at the Central. I’d be very much obliged if you could manage to spare me a few minutes . . . Here? That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Mr Campbell.’
    Pusey, watching him replace the receiver, was both indignant and defensive. ‘Well, I mean to say, if you’re in a man’s office and other people come into it and begin discussing the same subjects with you, surely it’s reasonable to assume . . .’
    Marshall patted his arm. ‘Take it easy, Pusey. There’s no need to get into a panic. It won’t help matters to try to blame this man Campbell for your mistakes.’
    â€˜Well, if I may say so, Mr Marshall, I think the fact that you spoke to Captain MacTaggart yourself . . .’
    Marshall accepted the point. ‘All right, Pusey. It doesn’t matter who’s to blame. I’ll have it sorted out in an hour. You’d better book sleepers for us on the night train to London.’
    Still offended, Pusey took up the telephone. ‘Hello, operator.’ He said indignantly to Miss Peters, ‘He even had the effrontery to ask if I’d taken his fountain pen!’
    Pusey’s indignation had a chance to smoulder in the next half-hour. Although the CSS offices were not a great distance from the Central, Campbell was not a man to waste shillings on taxis unless speed was essential, and now, enjoying the thought of all the trouble MacTaggart had caused, he preferred to walk. It was therefore with the greatest good humour that he knocked at the door ofMarshall’s suite, only to be met by a severely businesslike Miss Peters, with Pusey glowering in the background.
    â€˜Ah, Mr Campbell. So there you are at last!’
    â€˜Good evening, Mr Pusey.’ Campbell felt rather than saw the figures in the corridor and turning, bewildered, he saw that Fraser, the reporter, and Sarah MacTaggart had followed him grimly through the streets. He made a shrugging gesture, disowning responsibility, and explained, ‘There’s a reporter from the Star and a . . .’
    â€˜If you’ll step this way,’