CHAPTER VI.--AN ARTIST IN CRIME
It was barely light the next morning when a police car with five men in it came to a standstill off the main road behind the sandhills of Henley Beach.
"We must be quick now," said Inspector Barnsley, who was one of the five, "and get to work before the bathers come out. We don't want a crowd looking on." He turned to his subordinates. "I've found out there are a hundred and four bathing huts here, but I expect we shall get the one we want among the first twenty. Marshall and Cornell, stay on the top of the sandhills and keep an eye open for anyone coming round the back of the huts. Stop everyone you see. You, Henderson, will come with us."
The Inspector issued his commands like a general going into battle, and he spoke with the confidence of a man who wa
