On this point Mr. Ward did not attempt to hide his disappointment and
his anxiety. Anxiety, yes, for it was manifestly becoming more and
more difficult for him to fulfill his duty of protecting the public.
How could we arrest criminals, if they could flee from justice at
such speed over both land and sea? How could we pursue them under the
oceans? And when dirigible balloons should also have reached their
full perfection, we would even have to chase men through the air! I
asked myself if my colleagues and I would not find ourselves some day
reduced to utter helplessness? If police officials, become a useless
incumbrance, would be definitely discarded by society?

Here, there recurred to me the jesting letter I had received a
fortnight before, the letter which threatened my liberty and even my
life. I recalled, also, the singular espionage of which I had been
the subject. I asked myself if I had better mention these things to
Mr. Ward. But they seemed to have absolutely no relation to the
matter now in hand. The Great Eyrie affair had been definitely put
aside by the government, since an eruption was no longer threatening.
And they now wished to employ me upon this newer matter. I waited,
then, to mention this letter to my chief at some future time, when it
would be not so sore a joke to me.

Mr. Ward again took up our conversation. "We are resolved by some
means to establish communication with this inventor. He has
disappeared, it is true; but he may reappear at any moment, and in
any part of the country. I have chosen you, Strock, to follow him the
instant he appears. You must hold yourself ready to leave Washington
on the moment. Do not quit your house, except to come here to
headquarters each day; notify me, each time by telephone, when you
start from home, and report to me personally the moment you arrive