“You are.  Each man will receive his own, sealed, before leaving.  I am now about to give them out, in alphabetical rotation.  This will dismiss the meeting.  You will withdraw as inconspicuously as you came.  Remember, you are to become as cogs in the machine that I have devised.  At the exact place, hour, minute, and second you are to do exactly the thing ordered, and nothing else.  Neglect, disobedience, or failure will positively not be condoned, but will be punished as I see fit, even to the death penalty.

“Come forward now, as I call your names, and receive what I shall give you.”

He opened a drawer in the table, took out many small boxes and arranged them before him.  Each box was carefully wrapped in stout paper, securely tied, and sealed with red wax.

Standing there, firm, impassive, with narrowed eyes, he began reading the names: 

“Adams—­Auchincloss—­Brodeur&md
ash;­Cracowicz—­Daimamoto—­Emilio—­Frazier—­”

As each man’s name was uttered he came down along the table, took the box extended to him, thrust it into his pocket, saluted stiffly, and withdrew in silence.  At the end of a few minutes, no one was left but the Master, Bohannan, and the man in the celluloid mask.

“Have you no orders for me, sir?” asked the aviator, still erect in his place at the far end of the table.  His eyes shone out darkly through his shield.

“None, sir.”

“All the others—­”

“You are different.”  The Master set hands on his hips, and coldly studied this strange figure.  “The others have had their orders carefully worked out for them, prepared, synchronized.  You have come, so to speak, as an extemporization, an auxiliary; you will add one more unit to the flyers in the expedition, of which there are nine aces, including Major Bohannan here.  The others are now on their way to their lodgings, to study their instructions, to memorize, and prepare to carry them out.  You are to remain here, with Major Bohannan and with me.”

“Until what time, sir?”

“Until we start.  You will be under continual surveillance.  If you make any attempt to communicate in any way with anyone outside my apartment, it will be the last thing you will ever do.  You will receive no other warning.  Tomorrow night you will accompany us.  Till then, you remain my—­guest.”

The aviator nodded.

“Very well, sir,” he accepted.  “But, my machine?”

“I will attend to your machine.”

“I should hate to leave it there on the roof.”

“It will not be left on the roof.”

“I don’t understand, exactly—­”

“There will be very many things you do not understand before this expedition is over and done with.  I need say no more.”

Sharply he clapped his hands, thrice.  In a moment, Rrisa appeared at the door.  The Master spoke a few guttural, aspirated words of Arabic.  Rrisa beckoned the stranger, who obeyed.