'You do need help,' Sarah countered. 'Because some of your friends have disappeared, haven't they? And you haven't been able to stop it. Well, maybe I can if I have some idea where to start looking.'

Billy thought hard for a moment. Sarah stayed silent, knowing this was a battle he'd be waging with himself, and that anything else she said now might swing him the wrong way. It would not be an easy matter for him to trust her, but had she made him realize that he had no other genuine option?

'No skin off my nose,' he finally announced ambiguously. 'If you get yourself killed,' he added.

'Then you do have some idea what may have happened to the missing children?' asked Sarah.

He shrugged. 'No,' he answered, das.h.i.+ng her hopes. 'But I know who might. Factory man.'

Sarah started to feel hopeful once again. 'Factory man?' she asked.

Billy gestured with the knife. 'Go see him,' he suggested. 'Look hard. Now just go go.'

Knowing she'd get no more this time, Sarah nodded. 'All right, Billy. Thank you for your help. I promise I will do my best to find your friends, too. I'll let you know if I find anything out.'

'Don't do me favours,' Billy snapped. But he looked at least partway pleased at her response.

Returning to Kipling and his companions, Sarah asked, 'What do you know about a factory man?'

Kipling scowled. 'You must mean old Breckinridge. He owns a factory on the outskirts of Bodham. You must have seen it as you came into town. Big, modern and very impressive. He's really into progress and what-have-you. Shame he's such an unpleasant fellow, though.'

'Does the fish-boy think that Breckers has something to do with Anders' disappearance?' asked Beresford.

' Billy Billy does,' Sarah said, stressing the youngster's name. 'And with a few others, too.' does,' Sarah said, stressing the youngster's name. 'And with a few others, too.'

'Can't think why he'd want to,' Dunsterville said. 'He's a mean sort, but not such a bad egg.'

'Maybe he's a worse egg than you think,' Sarah told him. 'Why don't we go and see if we can have a chat with him?'

'I'm game,' agreed Kipling. 'I'll be scout.' He set off down the road.

Sarah followed behind, ignoring Beresford's comments as he droned away. She couldn't help wondering whether Dunsterville had a point: why would a successful factory owner be connected to missing children? Was it possible that Billy was sending her on a wild goose chase just to get rid other?

As the Doctor reached the Pig and Thistle, he halted and turned to Sir Alexander. 'Why don't you and Doctor Martinson order up some lunch?' he suggested. 'I'd like to see if Captain Gray is back on the Hope Hope yet. I've an idea that he may be able to clear up a few items that are nagging at the back of my mind. If he's not back yet, Doyle can leave him a note to get in contact with us when he does return.' yet. I've an idea that he may be able to clear up a few items that are nagging at the back of my mind. If he's not back yet, Doyle can leave him a note to get in contact with us when he does return.'

'Oh, very well,' the magistrate agreed. 'Though I still think you're off hunting red herrings, Doctor.'

The Doctor grinned. 'I've a particular fondness for herrings,' he replied. 'Come on, Doyle.' He started down the wharf toward where the Hope Hope lay at anchor. 'Do you think I'm off on a tangent here also?' lay at anchor. 'Do you think I'm off on a tangent here also?'

Doyle shrugged. 'I have to admit, Doctor, that it does look like you're connecting matters that are unrelated. On the other hand, your scientific methods are impeccable, and you are certainly skilled at deduction. I'm willing to indulge in a few wild ideas if they help to settle this case.' He rubbed his hands together eagerly. 'And it certainly is proving to be a most fascinating affair, isn't it?'

'It would be more fascinating,' the Doctor replied, 'if people weren't dying. But it is unique.' They had reached the plank leading up to the whaler now. 'After you, my dear chap.'

'Thank you.' Doyle led the way aboard. There was no one in sight on deck, and Doyle gestured. 'The captain's quarters are over here,' he said.

'Where is everyone?' the Doctor asked.

'Sh.o.r.e leave,' Doyle informed him. 'The captain gave us a day or so off while he concluded his deal, then the s.h.i.+p will head back home. I imagine most of the crew are off getting blind drunk while they can.'

The Doctor nodded. It sounded more than reasonable. They reached the door to the captain's cabin, and Doyle rapped on it.

The door swung slowly open.

'Odd,' Doyle muttered. 'This is usually kept locked if '

There was a sudden flurry of movement and a hunched form shot out of the cabin, slamming into Doyle and knocking the medical man backward with a whoosh of breath. Doyle slammed into the Doctor, and they collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs. It took Doyle a moment to catch his breath and stagger back to his feet.

'The scoundrel's getting away,' he wheezed, clutching his stomach with one hand and the wall of the cabin with the other.

'Got away,' corrected the Doctor, regaining his own feet. 'I doubt either of us could catch up with him now. Besides, I know where I can find him anyway.'

'You do?' asked Doyle, his face returning to its normal colour and his breathing regular once more. 'You recognized the man, then?'

'Yes,' the Doctor said. 'I only saw him briefly last night, but there's no mistaking that nose and build. His name is Abercrombie, and he works for a Colonel Ross.'

Frowning, Doyle followed the Doctor into Gray's cabin. 'He must have been here to rob the captain,' he said. 'We'd better let Faversham know, so he can arrest the villain.'

'Not yet,' the Doctor cautioned. 'I'd like to know what he expected to find in here that's worth his while. Men who spend several months in the Arctic don't usually take many valuables with them, do they? If Gray is off-s.h.i.+p, he's not likely to leave much cash around either.'

'True,' agreed Doyle, puzzled. 'We won't really get any money till we dock again in Peterhead and sell the bulk of the cargo.' He glanced around the cabin. 'Not much has been disturbed,' he observed.

'Except this,' the Doctor answered. He gestured to the s.h.i.+p's log, which was open on the captains desk. 'To today's entries in fact.' He scanned the page. 'h.e.l.lo! Now that is interesting.'

'What?' Doyle peered over the Doctor's shoulder.

' " Met with Breckinridge and Ross",' the Doctor read. He grinned. 'That was yesterday,' he said thoughtfully. 'Breckinridge again. He seems to be turning up at every twist in the road, doesn't he? And I wonder why your captain met with this mysterious Colonel Ross?'

'And why was Ross's man here reading that?' Doyle asked, perplexed. 'Unless maybe he aimed to destroy the reference so we couldn't read it?'

The Doctor snorted. 'Come on, Doyle. We wouldn't have even looked at it if Abercrombie hadn't left the page open.'

He shook his head. 'Another mystery.'

Doyle sighed. 'It seems as if at every turn, matters get more complex and confusing,' he complained.

'I know,' agreed the Doctor happily. 'Isn't it fun? Right, leave Gray a note asking him to contact us as soon as he can, and let's be going. I'm famished.'

'There it is,' said Kipling. Sarah couldn't help noticing a distinct trace of pride in his voice. She remembered that he was very keen on progress, and had even written a couple of science-fiction stories as a young writer. 'Breckinridge's factory.'

It looked like one of Blake's 'dark, satanic mills' to Sarah. It was large, block-shaped and grim. Three tall chimneys were pouring thick, gritty fumes into the atmosphere. There were few windows visible in the walls, and the entire bottom half of the building was invisible behind a tall stone wall. A single road led to the structure, and the sound of machinery came from within, audible even at this distance of about a mile.

'So what does he make?' she asked as they strode along briskly. She was glad that she had had a good breakfast and a rest before all this marching around. Bodham was only a small town, but it seemed as if everything she wanted to see was at opposite ends of it. The factory was on a small hill to the west of town, facing out into the bay. She could make out a pipe that led from the base of the hill and which was discharging into the sea. Pollutants, no doubt.

'A jolly good living,' Kipling answered, grinning. 'Aside from that, wire and cables, I believe.'

'Wire and cables?' Sarah was puzzled. 'Isn't this a trifle out of the way for such things? I would expect the market for them to be closer to London.'

Kipling shook his head. 'Ah, but Breckinridge is a great believer in progress. He's talking about laying a telegraph line between England and the United States that would carry ten times the load of the ones Lord Kelvin laid fifteen years ago.'

'And if that was done,' Sarah said, catching on, 'he'd be able to supply the necessary materials from here instead of having to s.h.i.+p them out from London. Clever!'

'Rather,' agreed Kipling. 'This man has an eye on the future, no doubt about that. And he's very interested in the telephone. He came to our school last term and gave a talk about it being the future of communications, and even envisions a time when telephonic lines will cross the Atlantic and replace telegraphs. Its jolly interesting stuff.'

Of course! This was 1880, and it was only a year since Bell had demonstrated the telephone to Queen Victoria. The great explosive growth of this new industry was poised to start. Breckinridge was definitely being visionary if he was already planning to take advantage of that new technology to lay submarine cables for it.

Then why had she never heard of his name in that connection? He was certainly in the right place at the right time with the right product. Why hadn't he been one of the first media barons, then? Did his failure have something to do with the events that were unfolding? It was lucky that the TARDIS had brought them here, then, instead of meeting up with Kipling in ten years' time in India.

Or was it luck? Too often, Sarah reflected, the s.h.i.+p had landed her and the Doctor right in the thick of things. Could it be nothing more than coincidence? Or was it possible that the TARDIS or some other force, unknown as yet was deliberately bringing the Doctor to points in s.p.a.ce and time where help was needed?

As she mused on this thought, they drew closer to the factory. There was a definite odour in the air now. All factories seemed to be intent on producing stench as a primary product, she reflected. There was a small guard box beside the door, and a bored-looking rat-faced man inside it. He glared at the four of them as they approached, as if irritated that they should deign to disturb his rest.

'I'd like to see Mister Breckinridge, please,' Sarah said firmly.

'Sorry,' the guard replied. 'He's not available for visitors.'

That wasn't a very encouraging start. 'When will he be back, then?'

Rat-face sn.i.g.g.e.red. 'Did I say he was out? I just told you, he's not seeing visitors.' He was clearly enjoying his role as guardian of the gates.

Sarah examined the gates carefully. There was no way through them without the man's permission, that was clear, and it didn't look as if he was interested in letting anyone pa.s.s. 'I'd prefer to hear Mister Breckinridge say that himself,' she snapped. 'Can you take a message to him?'

'I'm a guard, not a messenger,' the man replied haughtily. 'I guard. I don't carry messages. And I was told point-blank not to let in visitors.'

'Really?' Sarah glowered at him. 'Have you turned many others away today?'

'No. You're the first. Goodbye.'

'It's a waste of time,' Beresford said. 'Why don't we just go somewhere more interesting?'

Sarah shrugged. For once she was inclined to agree with Beresford, but she wasn't going without firing off one last salvo. 'Well, tell Mister Breckinridge that I was here, please. The name is Sarah Jane Smith, and I'm staying with Sir Edward Fulbright. You could mention that I was asking about missing children.'

Rat-face scowled at her. 'What's that supposed to mean?' he demanded.

Sarah smiled sweetly. 'If you were a messenger and not a guard, I might explain. Bye.' She waved, and started back towards the village. Let's see what effect that produces Let's see what effect that produces, she mused. If any, of course. Her three musketeers promptly fell in beside her. She'd have felt better about them if they weren't continually staring at her ankles or her chest. She knew she had their attention only because they were hoping to take advantage of her later. Fat chance Fat chance, she thought.

She gave a start as Billy suddenly stepped out into the road ahead of them. He'd been behind a tree, and Kipling and his friends yelped and almost jumped out of their skins. Billy sneered at them.

'I can see why you needed my help,' he told Sarah. 'Brave as rabbits, they is.'

Beresford stepped forward. 'You want a serious duffing-up?' he growled.

Billy produced his knife, and Beresford retreated again. Giving a crooked grin, Billy winked at Sarah. 'I followed along to make sure ye were on the level,' he explained. 'You really are looking for the missing 'uns, aren't ye?'

'Yes,' Sarah agreed. She was starting to quite like this little hoodlum. For one thing, she liked the subduing effect he had on Kipling and company. 'But I didn't get very far, did I?'

'Didn't think the factory man would hand them over, did ye?'

'No,' admitted Sarah. 'But I would have liked the chance to meet this Breckinridge. I've got good instincts, and the nose of a reporter. If he tried to cover up anything, I'd know.'

'I like ye,' Billy said. He stuck out a filthy hand. 'I'll help ye.'

Wondering how many diseases she was risking, Sarah shook his hand gingerly. 'Thanks, Billy. But help me how?'

'Me mates'll look and listen,' he promised. 'Anything turns up, I'll fetch ye. You've me word on it.'

'You wouldn't trust a tramp like that, would you?' asked Dunsterville in disgust. 'I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him.'

'You wanna throw me,' Billy said slyly, 'you can try.'

'There's no need to fight,' Sarah told them all firmly. 'Yes, I do trust Billy. On his own, there's not much he can do.

Joining forces with us makes us all stronger.' She turned to the beggar boy. 'You can find me '

'I can find ye when I want,' Billy said, sniffing loudly in disdain. 'Don't need no map.' He tossed her a ragged salute and dived off the road into the trees again. Within seconds there was neither sight nor sound of him.

'Interesting character,' said Sarah. She was most amused by the look of disgust and irritation on the faces of the three boys left with her. They all knew they had been outdone, and by a boy they felt utter contempt for. 'Cheer up,' she told them. 'Maybe you'll actually be of some use later.' The looks on their faces almost made up for the troubles she'd endured at their hands so far. It was starting to shape up into a fine day after all.

Still, where was she actually getting? She'd really discovered nothing of much use, and her only gains thus far were to have three schoolboys and one drop-out join her side. She could only hope that the Doctor was having more luck.

Ross could only hope that Abercrombie was having more luck than he was. He had managed to carry Alice back to her own room un.o.bserved, and quickly checked that his b.o.o.by-trap hadn't caused any serious medical condition. She would wake up when his little drug wore off in a couple of hours, but he wasn't expecting her to have no clue as to what had happened to her. When she awoke, there was going to be trouble.

He couldn't afford to wait around for that. It was bad enough that she suspected his motives and that her father was so implacable in his own suspicions. Now she finally had some proof for her theory that Ross was up to no good. After all, why would a man with nothing to hide set traps on his luggage for the unwary?

There was no option but for him to leave before she awoke. He couldn't possibly get out of here with all his luggage for the moment, which meant leaving it until later. On the other hand, he doubted that anyone else would be foolish enough to try and open it, given Alice's experience, so it should be safe enough for now.

If only there had been some sign of what she was after!

Carefully removing several items from his locked trunk, Ross reset the traps and then locked the case again. He slipped the items into his pockets, save for the rifle case. That he would have to carry. He glanced at his watch and frowned. Abercrombie should have been back by now if everything had gone well. That suggested another problem. Just what he needed.

Why couldn't this whole thing have worked as smoothly as most of his jobs?

He eased open the door to his room and carefully scanned the corridor outside. There was no sign of any of the servants, so he slipped out. Staying close to the wall and poised to hide if necessary, he made his way to the stairs leading to the rear exit of the Hall. There he paused, hearing the soft sound of movement on the stairs. He glanced around and then moved to the closest door. It was locked, but to his skeleton keys that was no bar. He moved into the room and closed the door almost entirely, leaving the barest crack to peer through. The room was an unmade guest room, and smelled vaguely fusty.

He stiffened as there came the sound of someone entering the corridor, and then breathed a sigh of relief. It was Abercrombie, trying to sneak into the Hall un.o.bserved as he'd been instructed. As Abercrombie pa.s.sed the room, Ross opened the door and tapped his companion on the shoulder.

Abercrombie squealed and jumped, then spun about so fast he almost fell over. 'Stone the crows,' he complained, seeing who it was. 'You enjoyed that, didn't you?'

'Yes,' admitted Ross. 'About face; we have to leave immediately.'

'How come?'

'Miss Fulbright attempted to open my luggage,' Ross answered, waving the little man back towards the stairwell.

'Blooming Ada,' Abercrombie muttered, scuttling back down the stairs. 'That's torn it.'