Explore "Sinister House" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Beaucaire smiled contemptuously as if his satellite's suggestion was unworthy of an answer. And now that the mere workmen connected with the conspiracy had been shown over the scene of operations and knew exactly how to come and go there was no occasion to delay them any longer. Just outside Beaucaire's flat, he stopped for a moment and addressed the others. There was no one in sight at that hour of the morning, and on their way back from Manton-street they had successfully evaded every policeman whom they noticed. It was as well to take no risks, even in the preliminary stages.
"Now, just one moment before you go," Beaucaire said. "Bosley, you come round to-morrow morning at 12 o'clock and I will give you the cash so that you can go down to the Docks and clear that machinery. You had better keep it in the new garage. Nobody will notice a couple of plain cases put somewhere in the back. But that is not all. Another thing, Bosley. You knock about the country a good deal in a car pretending to be a commercial traveller, which I suppose you are, more or less.