The Secret Adversary


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heart.  
"Is there--something more, sir?"  
"I'm afraid so," said Mr. Carter gravely. He stretched out his hand to a sheet on  
the table.  
"
"
Tuppence----?" faltered Tommy.  
Read for yourself."  
The typewritten words danced before his eyes. The description of a green toque, a  
coat with a handkerchief in the pocket marked P.L.C. He looked an agonized  
question at Mr. Carter. The latter replied to it:  
"
Washed up on the Yorkshire coast--near Ebury. I'm afraid--it looks very much  
like foul play."  
"My God!" gasped Tommy. "TUPPENCE! Those devils--I'll never rest till I've got  
even with them! I'll hunt them down! I'll----"  
The pity on Mr. Carter's face stopped him.  
"I know what you feel like, my poor boy. But it's no good. You'll waste your  
strength uselessly. It may sound harsh, but my advice to you is: Cut your losses.  
Time's merciful. You'll forget."  
"
Forget Tuppence? Never!"  
Mr. Carter shook his head.  
So you think now. Well, it won't bear thinking of--that brave little girl! I'm sorry  
"
about the whole business--confoundedly sorry."  
Tommy came to himself with a start.  
"I'm taking up your time, sir," he said with an effort. "There's no need for you to  
blame yourself. I dare say we were a couple of young fools to take on such a job.  
You warned us all right. But I wish to God I'd been the one to get it in the neck.  
Good-bye, sir."  
Back at the Ritz, Tommy packed up his few belongings mechanically, his  
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