me a favourable chance of doing a little calling on
our own account."

The net result of that little call had been the bloodless capture
of Hoffman and the other German spy, who had been surprised in the
prosaic act of swallowing their breakfast.

Having been favoured by fortune so far, Latimer had promptly proceeded
to make the best use of his opportunity. It struck him that, whatever
might be the result of their visit to me, the other members of the
party were pretty sure to come back to the bungalow. The idea of
hiding behind the curtain at once suggested itself to him. It was just
possible that in this way he might pick up some valuable information
before he was discovered, while in any case it would give him the
advantage of taking them utterly by surprise.

His first step had been to tie up the prisoners, and pack them off in
the car to Queenborough police station with Guthrie and the sergeant
as an escort. (I should have loved to have heard his conversation with
Hoffman while the former operation was in progress!) He then carefully
removed all inside and outside traces of the raid on the bungalow, and
picked out a couple of convenient hiding-places in the garden, where
Tommy and Ellis could he in ambush until they were wanted. A shot from
his revolver or the smashing of the French window was to be the signal
for their united entrance on the scene.

"Well, you know the end of the story as well as I do," he finished,
nicking off the ash of his cigar. "Things could scarcely have turned
out better, except for that unfortunate accident with McMurtrie."
He paused. "I wouldn't have shot him for the world," he added
regretfully, "but he really left me no choice."

"He would have been hanged anyway," put in Tommy consolingly.

Latimer smiled. "I didn't mean to suggest that it was likely to keep
me awake at night. I was only thinking that we might perhaps have got
some useful information out of him."

"It seems to me," I said gratefully, "that we did."

Through the interminable suburbs and slums of South-East London we
steamed slowly into London Bridge Station and drew up at the platform.
There was a taxi waiting almost opposite our carriage, and promptly
securing the driver Latimer instructed him to take us "as quickly as
possible" to No. 10 Downing Street.

The man carried out his order with almost alarming literalness, but
Providence watched over us and we reached the Foreign Office without
disaster. Favoure