once recognised as the originals of his
stolen Notes. Hagan went through them--he had put his suit-case across
his knees to form a desk--and carefully made marginal jottings. Cary,
who had often tried to write in trains, could not but admire the man's
laborious patience. He painted his letters and figures over and over
again, in order to secure distinctness, in spite of the swaying of the
train, and frequently stopped to suck the point of his pencil.

"I suppose," thought Cary, "that Dawson yonder is just gloating over
his prey, but for my part I feel an utterly contemptible beast. Never
again will I set a trap for even the worst of my fellow-creatures." He
put back the knob, went to bed, and passed half the night in extreme
mental discomfort and the other half in snatching brief intervals of
sleep. It was not a pleasant journey.

Dawson did not come out of his berth at Euston until after Hagan had
left the station in a taxi-cab, much to Cary's surprise, and then was
quite ready, even anxious, to remain for breakfast at the hotel. He
explained his strange conduct. "Two of my men," said he, as he
wallowed in tea and fried soles--one cannot get Dover soles in the
weary North--"who travelled in ordinary compartments, are after Hagan
in two taxis, so that if one is delayed, the other will keep touch.
Hagan's driver also has had a police warning, so that our spy is in a
barbed-wire net. I shall hear before very long all about him."

Cary and Dawson spent the morning at the hotel with a telephone beside
them; every few minutes the bell would ring, and a whisper of Hagan's
movements steal over the wires into the ears of the spider Dawson. He
reported progress to Cary with ever-increasing satisfaction.

"Hagan has applied for and been granted a passport to Holland, and has
booked a passage in the boat which leaves Harwich to-night for the
Hook. We will go with him. The other two spies, with the copies,
haven't turned up yet, but they are all right. My men will see them
safe across into Dutch territory, and make sure that no blundering
Customs officer interferes with their papers. This time the way of
transgressors shall be very soft. As for Hagan, he is not going to
arrive."

"I don't quite understand why you carry on so long with him," said
Cary, who, though tired, could not but feel intense interest in the
perfection of the police system and in the serene confidence of
Dawson. The Yard could, it appeared, do unto the spi