The hump-backed, heavy-jowled fellow with the scar on his cheek was Dan Collins.
He was a cunning sneak thief.
The short, pudgy rascal with the leer and St. Vitus dance was Martin Van, as atrocious a monster as ever saw the light of day—a veritable Caliban.
It was not easy for this trio to disguise themselves.
They couldn’t conceal their identity anywhere, yet they were mysteriously elusive and always fooled the detectives.
They managed to perpetrate the blackest of crimes and yet cover their tracks so well that they could not be cornered.
The Tough Trio was an appropriate name for them.
What could the eminently respectable Mr. Blood be doing in such company?
What business could he possibly have with them?
This was the question.