"Good God, man!" exclaimed Sir Bridgman. "It would give the whole game away."
"I propose," said Sage quietly, "that photographs of John Dene be inserted in every paper in the kingdom, that every continental paper likewise has full particulars of his disappearance. That you offer a thousand pounds reward for news that will lead to his discovery, and go on increasing it by a thousand every day until it reaches ten thousand." Malcolm Sage paused; his three listeners stared at him as if he were out of his senses.
"You seriously suggest this publicity?" enquired Sir Lyster in cold and even tones.
"I do," said Sage.
"You know why Mr. Dene is here."
"I do."
"And yet you still advise this course?" asked Sir Lyster.
"I do," responded Sage.
"Well, I'm damned!" said Sir Bridgman.
For a moment a flicker of a smile crossed Malcolm Sage's serious features.
"What are your reasons?" demanded Sir Lyster.
"My reasons are closely connected with my conclusions, sir, and at the present time they are too nebulous to express."
"We will consider this," said Sir Lyster with an air of concluding the interview.
Malcolm Sage rose. "The time is not one for consideration, sir," he said, "but for action. If you hesitate in this publicity, I must ask your permission to see the Prime Minister;" then with a sudden change of tone and speaking with an air of great seriousness he added, "This is a matter of vital importance. The announcement should be made in the late editions of all the evening papers, and the full story must appear in to-morrow's papers. There is not much time. Have I your permission to proceed?"
"No, sir, you have not," thundered Sir Lyster. "I shall report this matter to Colonel Walton."
"That, sir, you are quite at liberty to do," said Sage calmly. "Incidentally you might report that I have resigned from my position at Department Z. I wish you good afternoon, gentlemen," and with that Malcolm Sage left the room.
"Good Lord! Grayne, you've done it now," said Sir Bridgman. "L. J. thinks the world of that chap."
"He's a most impertinent fellow," said Sir Lyster with heat.
"Clever men frequently are," laughed Sir Bridgman. "It seems to me that everybody's getting under the influence of John Dene. I suppose it's Bolshevism," he muttered to himself.
Half an hour later Colonel Walton was seated in earnest conversation with Mr. Llewellyn John.
"It's very awkward, very awkward," said Mr. Llewellyn John; "still, you must act along your own lines. It's no good creating a department and then allowing another department to dictate to it; but it's very awkward," he added.
"It would be more awkward, sir, if Sage were allowed to go," said Colonel Walton.
"Of course, of course," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "that's unthinkable. If I were only told," he muttered, "if I were only told. They keep so much from me." Then after a pause he added, "I'm inclined to blame you, though, Walton, for not – not – " Mr. Llewellyn John hesitated.
"Keeping John Dene under proper observation," suggested Colonel Walton quietly.
"Exactly." Mr. Llewellyn John looked at him quickly.
"He was always guarded."
"Then you – " began Mr. Llewellyn John.
"Our men were tricked."
"Tricked!" Mr. Llewellyn John looked startled.
"Yes," continued Colonel Walton. "McLean was on duty that night. Immediately he saw John Dene hail a taxi, he jumped into his own taxi; but he had hardly started when he was run into by a small runabout, and the other taxi got away."
"But the number of – "
"Fictitious both, the taxi and the run-about. We thought it expedient not to detain the man who ran into McLean," Colonel Walton added.
For nearly a minute Mr. Llewellyn John sat staring at the Chief of Department Z.
"It's most unfortunate, disastrous in fact," he said at length. "We must try and get into touch with Auchinlech by wireless."
"I'm afraid it will be useless," was the response.
"There's the War Cabinet to be considered," murmured Mr. Llewellyn John to himself. "The war does not – " He hesitated.
"Make men tractable," suggested Colonel Walton helpfully.
"Exactly," agreed Mr. Llewellyn John. "They may not take the same view as Sir Lyster and myself with regard to that memorandum of ours to Dene. It's very awkward happening just now," he added, "with all this trouble about interning aliens."
"What am I to do, sir? There is very little time."
"Do," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "why run your department in your own way, Walton."
"I have an absolutely free hand?" enquired Colonel Walton.
"Absolutely," said Mr. Llewellyn John; "but I wish you could tell me more."
"To be quite frank, I'm as much in the dark as you are. Sage is as obstinate as a pack-mule and as sure-footed. He's no respecter of – "
"Prime Ministers or First Lords," suggested Mr. Llewellyn John with a smile.
"Exactly."
"Well, go your own way," said Mr. Llewellyn John; "but I should like to know what it all means. Frankly I'm puzzled. We are cut off entirely from Auchinlech, and without John Dene the Destroyer can't sail. We're losing valuable time. It's very unfortunate; it's a disaster, in fact. But," he burst out excitedly, "why on earth does Sage want to advertise our anxiety as to Dene's whereabouts? That's what puzzles me."
"It puzzles me too, sir," said Colonel Walton quietly.
"It's such a confession of weakness," continued Mr. Llewellyn John, "such a showing of our hand. What will people think when we offer ten thousand pounds for news of John Dene of Toronto?"
"They'll probably think that he's an extremely valuable man," was the dry retort.
"That's it exactly," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "and Berlin will congratulate itself upon a master-stroke."
Colonel Walton felt inclined to suggest that was exactly what Malcolm Sage seemed most to desire; but he refrained.
"Very well, Walton, carry on," said Mr. Llewellyn John; "but frankly I don't like it," he added half to himself.
Colonel Walton left No. 110, Downing Street, and ten minutes later Malcolm Sage withdrew his resignation.
Whilst Department Z. hummed and buzzed with energy, and men and women were coming and going continuously, Dorothy sat at the window of John Dene's room gazing out at a prospect of white enamelled bricks punctuated by windows. She had nothing to do. Everything seemed so different. John Dene's impulsive energy had vitalised all about him. Now she felt as if all her faculties had suddenly wilted.
In her own mind she was convinced that he was ill. She could not blot from her mind the strangeness of his manner during the last few days. His sudden loss of memory proved that he was unwell. For a man to forget where the postage stamps are kept, or the position in the room of the letter files, was, in itself, a proof that something very strange had suddenly come over him, the more so in the case of one who was almost aggressively proud of his memory. Then there had been other little details. His movements did not seem the same, that jerkiness and sudden upward glance from his table had disappeared. It was as if he had been drugged. Dorothy wondered if that really were the explanation. Oh! but she was very miserable and horribly lonely.
That night Dorothy and her mother sat up long after midnight talking of John Dene. To both had come the realisation that he stood to them in the light of an intimate friend.
As she said "Good night," Mrs. West put her arm round Dorothy's shoulders, and in a shaky voice said:
"I don't think God would let anything happen to a good man like Mr. Dene;" and Dorothy turned and left the room abruptly.
CHAPTER XIV
THE HUE AND CRY
The late editions of the evening papers contained no mention of the disappearance of John Dene. For one thing much valuable time had been lost owing to the attitude of Sir Lyster Grayne, for another, Malcolm Sage had decided to make a great display in the morning papers. All that afternoon Department Z. was feverishly busy. Photographs of John Dene had to be duplicated, and the story distributed through the Press Bureau, in order that it might possess an official character.
On the morning following the discovery of John Dene's disappearance, the British public was startled at its breakfast-table by an offer of £10,000 reward for details that would lead to the discovery of the whereabouts of one John Dene, a citizen of Toronto, Canada, who had last been seen at 6 p.m. on the previous Monday outside his offices in Waterloo Place.
The notice drawn up by Department Z. ran:
MISSING
£10,000 REWARD
Where is
JOHN DENE of TORONTO?
"On Monday at 6 p.m., Mr. John Dene, the well-known Canadian inventor and engineer of Toronto, left his offices in Waterloo Place, after bidding his secretary good night. Since then a shroud of mystery seems to have enveloped his movements.
HIS SECRETARY BECOMES ALARMED
"His Secretary, Miss Dorothy West, arrived at the office at the usual time on Tuesday morning. Mr. Dene was most punctual in his habits, invariably reaching his office a few minutes after nine. Miss West waited until two o'clock, then fearing that he might be ill, she rang through to the Ritzton Hotel, where Mr. Dene was staying. To her surprise she was informed that he had not returned to his hotel the night before.
WHERE IS JOHN DENE OF TORONTO?
"Miss West immediately got into communication with the head of a certain Government department with which Mr. Dene was associated; but nothing was known of his whereabouts. The authorities have reason to believe that Mr. Dene has been spirited away by some organisation that has a special object in view.
IS IT FOUL PLAY?
"A reward of £10,000 will be paid to anyone who will give such information as will lead directly to the discovery of Mr. John Dene's whereabouts. It may be added that Mr. Dene is a distinguished engineer and inventor, and it is the duty of every citizen of the British Empire to endeavour to assist the Authorities in tracing the missing man.
THIS IS WHAT HE IS LIKE
"The following is a description of Mr. John Dene: – Height 5 ft. 5 ins. Clean shaven with grey eyes and a determined expression, invariably carried a cigar in his mouth, very frequently unlighted. Has a peculiar habit of twisting and twirling the cigar in his mouth. Thick set with keen, rather jerky movements, and a habit of looking at people suddenly and piercingly. A square jaw and tightly closed lips. When last seen was wearing a dark grey tweed suit, trilby hat, dark blue tie and brown boots. Spoke with a marked Canadian accent.
"All communications should be addressed to Scotland Yard, S.W."
In addition to the foregoing semi-official particulars, there followed much information that had been gleaned by various reporters. Most of the papers gave a leader, and several hinted at the hidden hand, urging that this new outrage obviously pointed to the necessity for the internment of all aliens. Great emphasis was laid upon the importance of tracing the present whereabouts of John Dene of Toronto, and anyone who had seen a man at all answering to his description, was called upon to communicate with Scotland Yard.
The afternoon papers contained practically the same information, but elaborated and adorned. Several hinted at the fact that John Dene had come to England with a new invention of great importance, and that he had disappeared just on the eve of the fruition of his schemes, with the result that everything was at a stand-still. In support of this theory the writers pointed to the amount of the reward. Ten thousand pounds would not have been offered, they argued, unless there were good reasons for it. One paper went so far as to suggest that the Government itself was offering the reward, although in its next issue it apologised for and contradicted the statement – this was a little stroke of Malcolm Sage's.
Dorothy was besieged by interviewers, until at last she was forced to refrain from answering the succession of knocks at the outer door. Her head was in a whirl.
The prevailing topic of conversation was the disappearance of John Dene. Everybody was asking why such a reward had been offered. Shoals of letters descended upon Scotland Yard. Hundreds of callers lined up in a queue, waiting their turn to be interviewed. Telegrams rained in from the provinces. Apparently John Dene had been seen in places as far distant as St. Andrews and Bournemouth, Aberystwyth and King's Lynn. He had been observed in conversation with men, women and children, some of harmless, some of sinister appearance. He had been seen in trains, 'buses, trams and cars. He had been seen perturbed and calm, hastening and loitering, in uniform and in mufti.
Scotland Yard was almost out of its mind, and the officer in charge of the John Dene investigation rang through to Malcolm Sage, demanding what the funny peter he was to do with the enormous correspondence, and the bewildering queue that already stretched along the Embankment halfway to Charing Cross railway-bridge.
"Burn the telegrams and letters and tell the queue to write," was Sage's laconic response, as he put up the receiver, whereat the officer had sworn heavily into the mouth-piece of the instrument.
The Chief Commissioner was particularly annoyed because all his own correspondence had been engulphed in the epistolary flood, and he was expecting a letter from his wife telling him where to meet her on the following day on her return from a motor tour. Those who knew Lady Wrayle understood the Chief Commissioner's anxiety.
All day long Scotland Yard worked in a conscientious endeavour to sift the mass of evidence that streamed in upon it from all parts of the kingdom. Some of the stories to which weary but patient officials listened were grotesque in the extreme. As the chief expressed it, "Half the idiots and all the damned fools in the country are descending upon us."
The callers were interesting as studies in obtuseness and optimism; but they were as nothing to the telegrams. One man wired from St. Andrews that he was tracking a strange man round the golf course, would Scotland Yard telegraph a warrant for his arrest? Another enquired if the reward would be in cash or war bonds, and if the Government guaranteed the money – this man telegraphed from Aberdeen. Several asked for railway warrants to London that they might lay certain facts before the authorities. Scores telegraphed for photographs, as the pictures in the papers were indistinct. One lady telegraphed from Suffolk that a man with a beard identical with that worn by John Dene in the picture in The Daily Photo had that day come to her door begging.
The telegrams were, however, nothing to the letters that followed them. The lady who had telegraphed about a bearded John Dene, wrote to apologise for her mistake, explaining it by saying that the paper boy must have accidentally rubbed the paper before delivering it. She was not to be denied, however, and went on to say that she thought the picture strangely like the man who had begged of her. Did Scotland Yard think that John Dene had disguised himself with a false beard?
Some correspondents wrote bitterly censuring the Government for not interning all aliens, for allowing John Dene out of its sight, for an Imperialistic policy, for plunging the country into war, for offering the reward, and for a thousand and one other irrelevant things. The one thing that no one did was to supply any information that would be remotely useful to the authorities in tracing the missing man.
People waited eagerly for the morrow's papers. They contained another surprise, this time in the form of a two column advertisement, offering £20,000 for information that would lead to the discovery of the whereabouts of John Dene. Clearly somebody was determined that John Dene should be found.
When Mr. Llewellyn John opened the first morning paper he picked up from the pile awaiting him he gasped. Himself a great believer in the possibilities of the press, he felt, nevertheless, that Department Z. was overdoing things, and he telephoned for its chief and Malcolm Sage to call upon him at ten o'clock.
At two minutes to ten, the two presented themselves at No. 110, Downing Street, and were immediately shown into the presence of the Prime Minister.
"Has it struck you," asked Mr. Llewellyn John, indicating one of the advertisements, "that questions will be asked in the House as to whether or no the Government is offering these large rewards?"
"I should think it highly probable, sir," was Sage's response.
"And what are we to say?" demanded Mr. Llewellyn John. He was a keen politician, and saw that the situation might be fraught with considerable difficulties.
"Acknowledge that they are, sir," was the response.
"Acknowledge it!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John.
"Certainly, sir."
"Mr. Sage," said Mr. Llewellyn John severely, "you do not appear to appreciate that this may seriously compromise the Government." Then turning to Colonel Walton he continued: "Hitherto you have been given a free hand, now I must ask you to explain why you are offering these large rewards. You first of all suggested £1,000, rising daily from £1,000 to £10,000. In two days it has amounted to £20,000."
"It won't rise any higher, sir. It has reached the limit."
"That is not the point," said Mr. Llewellyn John. "I want to know why it is that you are advertising to Germany that we want John Dene. It is an obvious confession of weakness." He made a quick nervous movement with his right hand, he was far from easy in his mind.
Malcolm Sage continued to examine his finger-nails with great intentness.
Seeing that he made no indication of replying, Mr. Llewellyn John continued:
"I'm afraid that this cannot go on." There was a suggestion of irritability in his voice.
"Then have it stopped, sir," said Sage calmly, still intent upon the finger-nails of his right hand.
"The mischief is done," said Mr. Llewellyn John. "What is at the back of your mind, Sage?" he demanded.
"I'm working on a hypothesis, sir," was the reply. "I think I'm right, in fact I'm convinced of it; but until I know for certain, I must keep my theories to myself. If you wish it, I'll tell you what I actually know; but I make it a rule never to air theories."
Mr. Llewellyn John smiled. "Well, tell me what you actually know then," he said.
"When Mr. Dene left his office at three minutes past six on Monday evening, he stood for nearly a minute, as if making up his mind in what direction to go. Just as he was about to turn and walk up Regent Street a taxi crawled past him. The driver spoke to him and John Dene got in and drove away."
"Kidnapped!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John.
Malcolm Sage shrugged his shoulders.
"In which direction did he drive?" enquired Mr. Llewellyn John eagerly.
"Along Pall Mall, sir," was the reply. "Colonel Walton told you what happened?"
Mr. Llewellyn John nodded. "And have you informed the police?" he asked.
Malcolm Sage shook his head.
"Why?" enquired Mr. Llewellyn John eagerly.
"If my theory is right," said Sage, "it's unnecessary. If my theory's wrong, it's useless. Believe me, sir, our best course is to continue to boom John Dene's disappearance for all we are worth."
"But the Destroyer!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John excitedly.
"You know the conditions, sir, that the island of Auchinlech was to be left severely alone for four months."
"Do you imagine that Dene slipped off to the north to trick the Germans?"
"That wouldn't trick them, sir," said Malcolm Sage quietly. "John Dene would never have been allowed to reach Auchinlech alive. That was settled. I may add that I have every reason to believe that the taxi and its occupant did not go fifty miles from London."
"And that he is a prisoner?" Mr. Llewellyn John jumped from his chair.
Malcolm Sage inclined his head in the affirmative.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John, "we must – "
"Depend entirely upon the advertisements," said Sage, rising. "You will of course regard this as strictly confidential, and to be told to no one. I cannot tell you how important it is." There was an unaccustomed note of seriousness in Sage's voice, which did not fail to impress Mr. Llewellyn John.
"But the questions in the House as to why we are offering this reward?" persisted Mr. Llewellyn John. "What reply are we to make?"
"You might fall back on the old cliché, sir: 'Wait and see.'"
Mr. Llewellyn John smiled.
"That phrase," continued Sage, "was a great asset to one party, why should it not be to another?"
"Look at this." Mr. Llewellyn John held out a slip of paper, which Colonel Walton took and read aloud.
"Has the attention of the Home Secretary been drawn to a statement in The Tribune to the effect that it is the Government that is offering the reward of £10,000 for information that will lead to the discovery of the whereabouts of Mr. John Dene of Toronto, and if so can it justify the offer of so large a sum of public money?"
"They haven't lost any time," remarked Sage quietly.
"They never do." There was an unaccustomed note of irascibility in Mr. Llewellyn John's voice. "These questions are a scandal."
"Except when one happens to be in opposition, sir," said Sage, apparently absorbed in examining the nails of his left hand.
Mr. Llewellyn John made no response, and Colonel Walton handed back to him the slip, which he tossed upon the table.
"Well," he demanded, looking from Colonel Walton to Sage, "what are we to reply?"
"The answer is in the affirmative, sir," said Malcolm Sage.
For a moment Mr. Llewellyn John looked at him, frowning, then he broke into a smile.
"That's all very well, Sage, but it's not sufficient."
"If I may venture a suggestion – " began Sage.
"Do – do, that's why I sent for you – both," he added, as if in deference to Colonel Walton.
"I would say that for reasons not unconnected with the prosecution of the war, the discovery of Mr. John Dene's whereabouts is imperative."
"But that would be giving us away more than ever."
"I think it would be desirable to temporise," said Sage.
Mr. Llewellyn John made a movement of impatience.
"You might reply that it is not in the public interest to answer the question," continued Sage.
"But that would be tantamount to acknowledging that we are offering the reward," said Mr. Llewellyn John with a suspicion of irritation in his voice.
Malcolm Sage looked at him steadily, but without speaking.
"There will inevitably be other questions arising out of this," continued Mr. Llewellyn John.
"I was going to suggest, sir, that if we could arrange for some newspaper to make a definite statement that the Government is offering the reward, we could prosecute it under D.O.R.A."
For fully a minute Mr. Llewellyn John gazed at Malcolm Sage, as if not quite sure of his sanity. "But," he began, and then broke off, looking helplessly across at Colonel Walton.
"Of course, sir, I'll relinquish the enquiry if you wish it."
"This is not the time to talk of relinquishing anything, Sage," said Mr. Llewellyn John with some asperity in his tone. "What I want to know is what all this means."
"That's exactly what I'm endeavouring to discover," said Sage evenly. "If I were a stage detective, I should be down on my knees smelling your carpet, or examining Pall Mall with a strong lens; but I'm not. I never carry a magnifying-glass and I know nothing about finger-prints. The solving of mysteries, like the detection of crime, is invariably due to a mistake on the part of somebody who ought not to have made a mistake."
"Then tell me how far you have got." Mr. Llewellyn John glanced across to Colonel Walton, and was conscious of a slight knitting of his brows, then he looked back again at Malcolm Sage, who for some moments remained silent.
"If you were uncertain of my sanity, sir," said Sage quietly, "would you discuss the matter with others, or would you first assure yourself of the accuracy of your suspicions?"
He looked up suddenly, straight into Mr. Llewellyn John's eyes.
"We all know you are hopelessly and irretrievably mad, Sage," said Mr. Llewellyn John with a smile.
"When I know definitely what has become of John Dene, I'll tell you, sir," said Sage. "I'm not spectacular, sir. I can't deduce bigamy from a bootlace, or murder from a meringue. I can tell you this, however" – he paused and both his listeners leaned forward eagerly – "that if my hypothesis is correct, the policy to pursue is to magnify the importance of John Dene's disappearance. Incidentally," he added, "it might result in Mr. John Dene revising his opinion of the incapacity of British officialdom."
"Then you refuse to tell me?"
"It would be highly injudicious on my part to tell you of a mere suspicion which might – " Malcolm Sage lifted his eye from the nail of his left thumb, and looked straight at Mr. Llewellyn John – "which might dictate your policy, sir."
"But the time we are wasting," protested Mr. Llewellyn John, rising and pacing up and down impatiently.
"Nothing is lost that's wrought with tears, sir," was the enigmatical response.
"Sage," said Mr. Llewellyn John, as he shook hands with Malcolm Sage, "you're the most pig-headed official in the British Empire. Chappeldale can be tiresome; but you're nothing short of an inconvenience. Mind, Walton," he continued, turning to the chief of Department Z., "I shall hold you responsible for Sage. If he lets me down over this Dene business, I shall lose faith in Department Z." The smile that accompanied his words, however, robbed them of any sting they might have contained.
"Why don't you take the Skipper into your confidence, Sage?" enquired Walton, as they walked towards the Duke of York's steps.
"Vanity, chief, sheer vanity," was the response. "We have never failed him yet, and if I started barking up the wrong tree, he'd never again have confidence in Department Z. I suppose," he added irrelevantly, "that some day we shall be taken over altogether by the colonies. It would not be a bad thing for the British Empire, either. John Dene might be our first president."
There was one man who was deeply thankful for the disappearance of John Dene. Mr. Blair went about as if he had received a new lease of life. He became almost sprightly in his demeanour, and no longer looked up apprehensively when the door of his room opened. Sir Bridgman North commented on the circumstance to Sir Lyster Grayne and, as he passed through Mr. Blair's room, openly taxed him with being responsible for the kidnapping of John Dene. Mr. Blair smiled a little wearily; for to him John Dene was no matter for joking.
When Mr. McShane's question with regard to the disappearance of John Dene came up for answer, the Home Secretary replied that for the present at least it was not in the public interest to give the information required.
"That's tantamount to an acknowledgment," cried Mr. McShane, springing to his feet. "It's a scandal that public money – "
He got no further, as at this point he was called to order by the Speaker.
It was clear that the House was not satisfied. In the lobbies Mr. McShane's question and the answer given were discussed to an extent out of all proportion to their apparent importance. The feeling seemed to be that if John Dene were of such value to the Government, he should have been guarded with a care that would have prevented the possibility of his disappearance. If on the other hand the Government had no interest in the enormous reward offered for information concerning him, then a statement to that effect should have been made. Whatever the facts, the Government was obviously in the wrong. That was the general impression.
The next day several newspapers commented very strongly upon the incident. There seemed to be a determination on the part of the press to make an "affaire John Dene" out of the Canadian's disappearance. The Government was attacked for adopting German bureaucratic methods. "A dark age of bureaucracy is settling down upon the country," said The Morning Age. "The real danger of Prussianism is not military, but bureaucratic."
The Government was called upon to lift the curtain of mystery with which it had surrounded itself. If it were responsible for the rewards offered, then let it say so. If, however, these rewards were in no way connected with the Government, then a denial should immediately be made. At the moment everybody regarded the Government as responsible for the tremendous press campaign resulting from John Dene's disappearance.
Malcolm Sage read the newspapers with obvious relish. Mr. Llewellyn John, on the other hand, frowned heavily at finding his administration attacked. The Home Secretary rang up the Deputy-Commissioner at Scotland Yard, telling him that something must be done, and the Deputy-Commissioner had replied with some heat that if the Home Secretary would step across to the Yard, he would see what actually was being done. He further intimated that the whole work of the Yard had been disorganised.
The Prime Minister sent over for Colonel Walton. "Look here, Walton," he cried as the chief of Department Z. entered the room. "This affair is getting rather out of hand, and it looks dangerous. You've seen the papers?"
Colonel Walton nodded. He was a man to whom words came with difficulty.
"Well, I don't like the look of it," continued Mr. Llewellyn John. "Sir Roger has just rung through that he's been urging Scotland Yard to greater efforts."
"They can do no harm," remarked Colonel Walton drily.
"I want Sage to go round and see the Deputy-Commissioner."
"I doubt if he'll do it," was the grim response.
"Not do it!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John, with a note of anger in his voice.
"In fact, I'm quite sure he won't."
"If you tell him that those are my instructions – " began Mr. Llewellyn John.
"It's no use, sir, he'll merely resign. He's as independent as an American boot-boy."
Mr. Llewellyn John flopped down in a chair, and sat gazing at Colonel Walton. "But he's got us into this muddle," he began.
"I've never known Sage's judgment at fault yet," replied Colonel Walton.
"Then you advise – " began Mr. Llewellyn John.
"I never venture to advise," was the reply.
"Now look here, Walton," said Mr. Llewellyn John persuasively, "this is a very serious matter. It has already been magnified out of all proportion to its actual importance. I want to know what you would do if you were in my place."