"Airship," suggested his chief flippantly, as he moved towards the door.
"It is unlikely, sir," replied T. B. coldly.
The Chief Commissioner stood with his hand on the edge of the open door.
"At any rate, they are finished," he said, "their power for further mischief is destroyed."
"I appreciate your optimism, sir," said T. B. impertinently, "which I regret to say I do not share."
"One thing is evident, and must be remembered," T. B. went on, as his chief still lingered. "Outside of the Nine Men there must be in Europe hundreds of agents, who, without being aware of their principals, have been acting blindly for years in their interest. What of the men who went to the length of murder at Poltavo's orders? What of the assassins in Europe and America who 'arranged' the suicide of the bank president and the wreck of the Sud Express? Not one of these men have we been able to track down. I tell you, sir, that outside of the inner council of this gang, Poltavo organised as great a band of villains as the world has ever seen. They remain; this is an indisputable fact; somewhere in the world, scattered materially, but bound together by bonds of Poltavo's weaving, are a number of men who formed the working parts of the Nine Men's great machine. For the moment the steam is absent—— Yes?"
A constable was at the door.
"A message for you, sir."
T. B. took the envelope and tore it open mechanically. It was a note from Van Ingen.
"Saw Poltavo ten minutes ago in a hansom. Positive—no disguise. C.V.I."