“I’d be a raw fool if I hadn’t,” the Irishman retorted.  “We know the Lone Wolf has been hand-in-glove with the authorities ever since the British Secret Service used him during the war.”

“You think, then, it is Lanyard—?”

“It’s a wise saying:  ‘Set a thief to catch a thief.’  I believe there’s no man in England but Lanyard who has the wit and vision and audacity to fight us on our ground and win.”

“I agree entirely.  Therefore, I have this day tied the hands of the Lone Wolf; he will not again dare to contend against us.”

Eleven sat up with a startled gesture.

“Are you meaning you’ve got the girl?”

Number One indulged a remote and chilly smile.

“Then you, too, noticed the advertisement?  Accept my compliments, Eleven.  Decidedly you might prove a dangerous rival—­were I in a temper to countenance competition....  But it is true:  I have the girl Sofia—­the Lone Wolf’s daughter.”

“Where?”

The smile faded; the man on the dais looked down loftily.

“It is enough for you to know I have proved far-sighted and unfailing in my fidelity to our common cause.”

“So you say ...”

Though the Irishman winced and fell silent under the cold glare of the other’s eyes, the voice that answered him was level and passionless.

“I am not here to have my word challenged—­or my authority.  If any one of you imagines I am even thinking of surrendering the latter, under any conceivable circumstances, he is mad.  And if any one of you doubts my power to enforce my will, I promise him ample proof of it before the night is ended....  Let us now proceed to business, the question held over from our last meeting.  If Comrade Four will consult his minutes”—­a nod singled out the babu, who, beaming with importance, produced a note-book—­“they will show we adjourned to consider overtures made by the Smolny Institute of Petrograd, seeking our cooeperation toward accelerating the social revolution in England.”

“Thatt,” the Bengali affirmed, “is true bill of factt.”

“If the temper in which you received those proposals is fair criterion,” Number One resumed, “there can be little doubt as to our decision.  Speaking for myself, I think it would be suicidal to reject the overtures of the Soviet Government in Russia.  Let me state why.”

He bowed his forehead upon a hand and continued with thoughtful gaze downcast: 

“England is ripe for revolution.  The social discontent resulting from the war has reached an acute stage.  Only a spark is needed.  It remains for us to decide whether to permit Russia to bring about the explosion or—­bring it about ourselves.  The soviet movement is irresistible, it will sweep England eventually as it has swept Russia, as it is now sweeping Germany, Hungary, Austria, Italy, as it must soon sweep France and Spain.  Our power in England is great; even so, we could hope to do no