Two men sat in a secluded room on a quiet street in London.  To look at the building from the street it would have been taken for a modest dwelling house.  The room they occupied was spacious, furnished with several desks and tables and lounge and easy chairs.  One of the men was large and white-haired, upon whose vest a golden star sparkled.  But for this badge of authority he would have passed merely for a well-dressed business man.  The other was a younger man, possibly not more than thirty years old.  There was nothing remarkable in his appearance; he was tall and well proportioned with every indication of strength and vigor.  He looked through large brown and sparkling eyes, a full brown beard covered his face and his head was covered with a heavy suit of hair somewhat darker than his beard.

“Lucas,” said the older man to a stalwart colored attendant, “you can go now, and be sure to admit no one until I ring.”

The speaker was the chief of the Bow Street detective service; the other was his youngest colleague.  His name was Job Worth.  He had belonged to the force three years, and in several instances had achieved more than ordinary success.  He was known as Number 11.  Job had graduated four years ago from Burrough Road Institute, and soon after received an appointment of secretary of the Legation at Washington, United States.  In this honorable office he had spent one year, but the work did not suit his strenuous nature, and he returned home and soon afterward received an appointment in this detective service.  Job was known in the force as quiet, self-contained, observant, patient, and was possessed of an extraordinarily retentive memory.  Rarely was it necessary for him to say, “I have forgotten.”

“Major,” said Worth, as soon as they were alone, “I asked this private interview to talk to you about the bank robbery which occurred on the eleventh of last April.”

“Well,” replied the chief, “do you know anything new?”

“No, nothing certain, but I have a new suspicion.”

“Suspicion,” said the other, “suspicion doesn’t amount to much.  But what do you suspect?”

“Well, I suspect that certain parties got that money, and I want to submit the matter to you before I go any further.”

“That is all right, Job.  If there is enough in your suspicions, you shall not lack the authority to act.  Proceed.”

“Well,” said Worth, “if the bank people will grant me permission, I can show them how that package of money was extracted.”

“That,” replied the chief, “might interest them somewhat; at the same time what they want is not to be given an exhibition of expertness in bank robbing, but to be shown how the money can be restored.  In short, how it was taken is secondary to the matter of how to get it back.  Anything else?”

“Of course, but I propose to show not only how it was taken but also to get on to the track of the fellows that took it.”