"I am to understand, then, you think it time for me to abdicate and let
another lead you in my stead?"

The Englishman assented with an inarticulate monosyllable and a surly nod.

"And may one ask why?"

"Blue's plice in Pekin Street was r'ided this afternoon," Seven announced
truculently. "But per'aps you didn't know--"

"Not until some time before the news reached you," One replied, pleasantly.
"And what of it?"

"Three fycers in a week, Gov'ner--anybody'll tell you that's comin' it a
bit thick."

"Granted. What then?"

"That's only part of it. Tike last week: Eighteen pinched, the queer plant
in 'Igh Street pulled by the coppers--"

"I know, I know. To your point!"

Seven hesitated under that steely stare. "I leave it to you, Gov'ner," he
continued to stammer at length. "S'y you was me and I was Number One--w'at
would you think?"

"Why, quite naturally, that some superior intelligence has latterly been
collaborating with Scotland Yard."