Sir John Hackblock had written to the Chief Commissioner and a question had been asked in the House.
Inspector Wensdale's colleagues had learned that it was dangerous to mention in his presence the words "cattle" or "maiming." The inspector knew that the affair was referred to as "Wensdale's Waterloo," and his failure to throw light on the mystery was beginning to tell upon his nerves.
For three weeks he had received no word from Malcolm Sage. One morning on his arrival at Scotland Yard he was given a telephone message asking him to call round at the Bureau during the day.
"Nothing new?" queried Malcolm Sage ten minutes later, as the inspector was shown into his room by Thompson.
The inspector shook a gloomy head and dropped his heavy frame into a chair.
Malcolm Sage indicated with a nod that Thompson was to remain.
"Can you borrow a couple of covered government lorries?" queried
Malcolm Sage.
"A couple of hundred if necessary," said the inspector dully.
"Two will be enough," was the dry rejoinder. "Now listen carefully, Wensdale. I want you to have fifty men housed some ten miles away from Hempdon on the afternoon of the 22nd. Select men who have done scouting, ex-boy scouts, for preference. Don't choose any with bald heads or with very light hair. See that they are wearing dark clothes and dark shirts and, above all, no white collars. Take with you a good supply of burnt cork such as is used by nigger minstrels."
Malcolm Sage paused, and for the fraction of a second there was a curious fluttering at the corners of his mouth.