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"Might this be for you, sir?" The carter held out a very dirty folded note, on the
outside of which was written: "Take this to the gentleman at the inn near Astley
Priors. He will give you ten shillings."
The handwriting was Tuppence's. Tommy appreciated her quick-wittedness in
realizing that he might be staying at the inn under an assumed name. He
snatched at it.
"
That's all right."
The man withheld it.
What about my ten shillings?"
"
Tommy hastily produced a ten-shilling note, and the man relinquished his find.
Tommy unfastened it.
"
"
DEAR TOMMY,
I knew it was you last night. Don't go this evening. They'll be lying in wait for
you. They're taking us away this morning. I heard something about Wales--
Holyhead, I think. I'll drop this on the road if I get a chance. Annette told me how
you'd escaped. Buck up.
"Yours,
"
TWOPENCE."
Tommy raised a shout for Albert before he had even finished perusing this
characteristic epistle.
"Pack my bag! We're off!"
"Yes, sir." The boots of Albert could be heard racing upstairs. Holyhead? Did that
mean that, after all----Tommy was puzzled. He read on slowly.
The boots of Albert continued to be active on the floor above.
Suddenly a second shout came from below.
"Albert! I'm a damned fool! Unpack that bag!"
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