As he passed me, he was speaking ostensibly to one of his comrades ...
ostensibly....

"I shouldn't wait up for Jonah," he said.

* * * * *

Thanks to the fact that one of the Assistant Commissioners of Police was
an old friend of mine, we were spared much of the tedious interrogation
and well-meant, but in the circumstances utterly futile, attentions of
the subordinate officers of the C.I.D.

Admission to the house had been gained without breaking, and there were
no finger-prints. Moreover, since our visitors had worn masks, such
descriptions of them as we could give were very inadequate. However,
statements were taken from my sister, Berry and myself, and the spurious
telegram was handed over. The insurance company was, of course, informed
of the crime.

Despite the paucity of detail, our description of the gang and its
methods aroused tremendous excitement at Scotland Yard. The master, it
appeared, was a veritable Prince of Darkness. Save that he existed, and
was a man of large ideas and the utmost daring, to whose charge half the
great unplaced robberies of recent years were, rightly or wrongly, laid,
little or nothing was known of his manners or personality.

"I tell you," said the Assistant Commissioner, leaning back and tilting
his chair, "he's just about as hot as they make 'em. And when we do take
him, if ever we do--and that might be to-morrow, or in ten years'
time--we might walk straight into him next week with the stuff in his