Edgar Wallace

“ Pinlow nodded.
“The last business Coggs did for me was none too satisfactory,” he said grimly, remembering his losses on Fixture.
They walked on in silence, then the man at his side suddenly put out his hand and stopped.
“Somebody ahead,” he whispered.
He had seen two shadowy forms by the side of the road. He whistled, softly, a bar from a song which was the rage of the moment, and instantly and as softly the refrain was taken up.
“It’s all right,” said the man in a low voice, “it’s Coggs and Gilly.” ”

“ Colter and I did it; the paint is not yet dry.”
“What are you going to do?” growled Pinlow.
Brian shook his head.
“I’m blest if I know!” confessed his captor; “you’re much too innocent to be locked up. A man who would believe that he could straighten—that’s the word, isn’t it?—a stableman of mine, a man who has been with me for ten years, is more to be blamed than pitied!”
With a reproving shake of his head, he stepped down from the bunk, alighted nimbly upon the broad back of the wooden horse, and walked along till he came to the tail, then he jumped lightly into the box. ”

“ The two walked quickly in the direction of the lane where the motor-car had been left.
There was no sign of it and they looked about in bewilderment. Brian came up.
“Looking for the car, I suppose?” he said. “It is half-way to London by now; the fact is, the driver had the choice of arrest or bolt—and he bolted.”
He gave them time to realize the situation, then he went on: “A nice ten-mile walk will do you both good; you don’t get enough exercise, Pinlow; you’re getting fat. You’re nothing like the lithesome dapper conquestador I knew in Melbourne.” ”