"I hope they won't start any of that O.B.E. business," said Sage at length.
"Sure to. It will be a triumph for the Skipper," continued Colonel Walton.
"He deserves it," said Sage ungrudgingly. "He's always believed in us. By the way, I told Hoyle to bring Finlay here after they had got Naylor."
Colonel Walton continued to puff contentedly at his cigar.
Early that morning Malcolm Sage had given final instructions to the various members of his staff. He and Colonel Walton had been working all through the night in perfecting their plans. The demands made upon Scotland Yard for men had at first evoked surprise, which later developed into sotto voce ridicule.
"What the devil's up with old Sage and Onions?" Inspector Crabbett had muttered, as he cast his eyes down the list of plain-clothes and uniformed officers required. "Who the devil's going to issue all these warrants?"
Department Z., however, had its own means of obtaining such warrants as were required without questions being asked.
Early that morning Malcolm Sage had got through to Inspector Crabbett.
"That you, Inspector?" he enquired.
"What's left of me," was the surly retort.