"A constitutional government is a great obstacle to an efficient Secret Service, it imposes limitations," remarked Sage regretfully.
Colonel Walton looked across in the act of lighting his cigar.
"There are six hundred and seventy of them at Westminster. In war-time we require a system of the lettre-de-cachêt. And now," said Sage, rising, "I think I'll get a couple of hours' sleep, I've been pretty busy. By the way," he said, with his hand upon the door-handle, "I think we might get the papers of that fellow on the Bergen boat, also a photograph, clothing, and full details of his appearance."
Colonel Walton nodded and Malcolm Sage took his departure.
II
"It's curious."
Malcolm Sage was seated at his table carefully studying several sheets of buff-coloured paper fastened together in the top left-hand corner with thin green cord. In a tray beside him lay a number of similar documents.
He glanced across at a small man with a dark moustache and determined chin sitting opposite. The man made a movement as if to speak, then apparently thinking better of it, remained silent.
"How many false calls did you say?" enquired Sage.
"Nine in five days, sir," was the response.