n charge, fastened up his coat collar about his neck and turned to
Stringer, the Scotland Yard man, who sat beside him in the stern of the
cutter gloomily silent.

"Time's wearing on," said Rogers, and his voice was muffled by the
fog as though he were speaking from inside a box. "There must be some
hitch."

"Work it out for yourself," said the C. I. D. man gruffly. "We know that
the office in Globe Road belongs to Gianapolis, and according to the
Eastern Exchange he was constantly ringing up East 39951; that's the
warehouse of Kan-Suh Concessions. He garages his car next door to the
said warehouse, and to-night our scouts follow Gianapolis and Max from
Piccadilly Circus to Waterloo Station, where they discharge the taxi
and pick up Gianapolis' limousine. Still followed, they drive--where?
Straight to the garage at the back of that wharf yonder! Neither
Gianapolis, Max, nor the chauffeur come out of the garage. I said, and I
still say, that we should have broken in at once, but Dunbar was always
pigheaded, and he thinks Max is a tin god."...

"Well, there's no sign from Max," said Rogers; "and as we aren't ten
yards above the wharf, we cannot fail to hear the signal. For my part
I never noticed anything suspicious, and never had anything reported,
about this ginger firm, and where the swell dope-shop I've heard about
can be situated, beats me. It can't very well be UNDER the place, or it
would be below the level of the blessed river!"

"This waiting makes me sick!" growled Stringer. "If I understand
aright--and I'm not sure that I do--there are two women tucked away
there somewhere in that place"--he jerked his thumb aimlessly into
the fog; "and here we are hanging about with enough men in yards, in
doorways, behind walls, and freezing on the river, to raid the Houses of
Parliament!"

"It's a pity we didn't get the word from the hospitals before Max was
actually inside," said Rogers. "For three wealthy ladies to be driven
to three public hospitals in a sort of semi-conscious condition, with
symptoms of opium, on the same evening isn't natural. It points to the
fact that the boss of the den has UNLOADED! He's been thoughtful where
his lady clients were concerned, but probably the men have simply been
kicked out and left to shift for themselves. If we only knew one of them
it might be confirmed."

"It's not worth worrying about, now," growled Stringer. "Let's have a
look at the time."

He fumbled inside his overc