“I was that once,” said Elk, “the same as old man Maitland—though I’ve never sailed with him—I guess he left the sea years before I was born. Like him?”
“Mr. Maitland? No!” she shivered. “I think he is a terrible man.”
Elk did not disagree.
To Dick Gordon that morning he confessed his error.
“I don’t know why I jumped at Bennett,” he said. “I’m getting young! I see the evening newspapers have got the burglary.”
“But they do not know what was stolen,” said Dick in a low voice. “That must be kept secret.”
They were in the inner bureau, which Dick occupied temporarily. Two men were at work in his larger office replacing a panel which had been shattered by the bullet which had been fired at him on the morning Elk came into the case, and it was symptomatic of the effect that the Frogs had had upon headquarters that both men had almost mechanically scrutinized the left arms of the workmen. The sight of the damaged panel switched Elk’s thoughts to a matter which he had intended raising before—the identity of the tramp Carlo. In spite of the precautions Gordon had taken, and although the man was under observation, Carlo had vanished, and the combined efforts of headquarters and the country offices had failed to locate him. It was a sore point with Gordon, as Elk had reason to know.
For Carlo was the reputable “Number Seven,” the most important man in the organization after the Frog himself.
“I’d like to see this Carlo,” he said thoughtfully. “There’s not much use in putting another man out on the road to follow up Genter’s work. That system doesn’t work twice. I wonder how much Lola knows?”
“Of the Frogs? They wouldn’t trust a woman,” said Dick. “She may work for them, but, as you said, it is likely they bring in outsiders for special jobs and pay them well.”