“Hagn, I’m sure!” said Elk. “Get those whiskers off, you Frog, and we’ll talk numbers, beginning with seven!”
Hagn! Even now Dick could not believe his eyes. The wig was so perfectly made, the beard so cunningly fixed, that he could not believe it was the manager of Heron’s Club. But when he heard the voice, he knew that Elk was right.
“Number Seven, eh?” drawled Hagn. “I guess Number Seven will get through your cordon without being challenged, Mr. Elk. He’s friendly with the police. What do you want me for?”
“I want you for the part you played in the murder of Chief Inspector Genter on the night of the fourteenth of May,” said Elk.
Hagn’s lips curled.
“Why don’t you take Broad?—he was there. Perhaps he’ll come as witness for me.”
“When I see him——” began Elk.
“Look out of the window,” interrupted Hagn. “He’s there!”
Dick walked to the window and, throwing up the sash, leant out. A crowd of locals in shawls and overcoats were watching the transference of the prisoners. Dick caught the sheen of a silk hat and the unmistakable voice of Broad hailed him.
“Good morning, Captain Gordon—Frog stock kind of slumped, hasn’t it? By the way, did you see the baby?”