“Yes.”

“Wish you good luck, old man; tra la.”

And Dick Stanhope bounced into the presence of his Chief with considerable noise and scant ceremony.

Number 46, who, with the stranger beside him, was[30] slowly pacing his beat, lifted his eyes as Vernet emerged from the stairway.

[30]

“There comes Vernet, and alone. I’ll bet something he’s off on a case,” he said.

“Looks like it.”

“He looks more serious than usual; wonder if he’s got to work it without Stanhope.”

“Do they always pull together?”

“Not always; but they’ve done their biggest work together. When there’s a very knotty case, it’s given to Vernet and Stanhope; and they seldom fail.”

“Which acts as leader and is the best man of the two?”

“Well, sir, that’s a conundrum that no man can guess, not even the Chief. And I don’t believe any body ever will know, unless they fall out, and set up an opposition to each other. As for who leads, they both pull together; there’s no leader. I tell you what I don’t want to see two such splendid fellows fall out; they’ve worked in double harness a good while. But if the Chief up there wants to see what detectives can do, let him put those two fellows on opposite sides of a case; then he’d see a war of wits that would beat horse-racing.”

“Um!” said the stranger, consulting an English repeater, “it’s time for me to move on. Is this your regular beat, my friend? Ah! then we may meet again. Good morning, sir.”

“That’s a queer jockey,” muttered No. 46. “When he first came up, I made sure he was looking for the Agency—looking just for curiosity, I reckon.”

And the stranger, as he strolled down the street, communed thus with himself:

[31]“So these two star detectives have never been rivals yet. The Chief has never been anxious to see what detectives can do, I suppose. This looks like my 

 Prev. P 15/322 next