"Fact. You'll be taken to Number One—he'll see you, but you won't see him. Then, if he thinks you're any good, you'll be put on the roll, and after that you'll be told where to make your reports to. There is a divisional meeting called once a fortnight, and every three months there's a general meeting and share-out. Each member is called up by number and has his whack handed over to him. That's all."
"Well, but suppose two members are put on the same job together?"
"If it's a daylight job, they'll be so disguised their mothers wouldn't know 'em. But it's mostly night work."
"I see. But, look here—what's to prevent somebody following me home and giving me away to the police?"
"Nothing, of course. Only I wouldn't advise him to try it, that's all. The last man who had that bright idea was fished out of the river down Rotherhithe way, before he had time to get his precious report in. Number One knows everybody, you see."
"Oh!—and who is this Number One?"
"There's lots of people would give a good bit to know that."
"Does nobody know?"
"Nobody. He's a fair marvel, is Number One. He's a gentleman, I can tell you that, and a pretty high-up one, from his ways. And he's got eyes all round his head. And he's got an arm as long as from here to Australia. But nobody knows anything about him, unless it's Number Two, and I'm not even sure about her."
"There are women in it, then?"