"I'll write to the papers about this outrage!" stormed the man. "I'll have you pilloried in the Press! I'll--I'll----" "I'll tie you in three knots and push you under an omnibus if you aren't outside in five seconds," said Storm quietly, and there was such concentrated scorn in his voice that the man shrank away as though he expected a blow. Storm was boiling with suppressed rage beneath his calm exterior, for the events of the past minutes had frayed his nerves more than he would ever have admitted. The reporter had watched the scramble with half-closed, amused eyes, and had gracefully taken his place at the end of the queue when peace was restored. He was the last to leave, and he held out his hand as he came to the door. "I won't ask for an interview," he said, "because I don't want my head bitten off before I've written up this scoop. Here's my card. I'll see you through if that cow in trousers makes a fuss." Storm's acid stare dissolved into a smile in response to the youngster's grin, and he shook hands heartily. They went out into the street together, and shouldered their way through the mass of excited people who had assembled. A uniformed man answered Storm's query. "Your men are after them, sir, but I don't think they've much chance. I saw them all go, and they looked too innocent to be wrong; besides, there'd been no alarm." Storm started up the Hirondel and the journalist, without invitation, joined him. Storm drove him back to Fleet Street and returned to Scotland Yard. He was feeling annoyed, for he had risked everything to allow the detectives to give chase with the least possible delay, and yet he knew the futility of attempting to allow even two minutes' start in London to a fast car whose number was unknown; and he did not doubt for one moment that the gang had provided themselves with every possible means of ensuring a good getaway. Newsboys were rushing about with sensational posters in their hands, yelling indistinguishable captions, but he hardly noticed them. He had occasion to remember them, however, when he reached his room, for a letter was awaiting him and it was marked URGENT. He tore it open, and found a sheet of thin foolscap covered with neat writing. At the head of it was drawn the symbol of the Alpha Triangle, and just below this was a note: A copy of this Manifesto has been sent to all the London newspapers, and all News Agencies. Then came the lines of writing headed in a way that was more audacious than any criminal proclamation--of which a few are issued from time to time, but of which nobody takes any notice--he had ever read. And the subject-matter of the manifesto would only a week ago have excited his derision. FIRST MANIFESTO _by the Lord of the Alpha Triangle, in Council, to the Parliament and People of the United Kingdom._ WHEREBY it is announced as follows: