The trouble about sensational crime, from the journalist's point of view, is that once the public has ceased to be interested in its committal, the news value falls several degrees below par. The Triangle mystery, however, suffered from no such disadvantages. The definite threat of further crimes effectively maintained popular interest at fever heat. The Triangle was the topic of conversation wherever two or three were gathered together, and those who at the first announcement had dismissed it as a hoax, prayed that their indiscretion might be forgotten. Joe Blaythwayt was confidently pessimistic. "I Know Criminals," he would say darkly, to the few doubters that remained. Another man, personally concerned with the fate of the plot, was belligerently smug. "I shall nod bay," he repeated with liturgical monotony. He sat opposite Joe Blaythwayt in the Lombard Street office. It was not his usual day for calling, but his reason was costly enough to justify this departure from routine. "Ter day afder to-morrow," he said, "I shall a cheque traw vor fifty tousand bounds. I shall require to pe baid in one bound notes. Led berbarations pe mate." "Certainly, sir," said Joe Blaythwayt briskly, and made a note on his pad. "The money will be ready for you. In the morning?" "Yess!" Raegenssen nodded violently. "That iss all. Thang you." He rose. "If I might mention something, sir," Blaythwayt stopped him. "That man Snooper--you want to be careful of him." Raegenssen wrinkled. "Snoober?" "That Brome fellow--Edward Brome he calls himself. I saw him driving through the City in your car yesterday morning. Of course, it's really no business of mine if you give your acquaintance a lift, but Brome isn't--ah--desirable. He's a well-known fence." "Fence?" "'Fence,'" explained Mr. Blaythwayt with unction, "is the cant term among criminals for a man who buys stolen property. A receiver. Brome is a receiver." Raegenssen stroked his chin. "Tear me! That iss most disdressing--yess! Hof you seen him before? How do you know?" "I Know Criminals," said Joe with an air. "When you again meed him," said Raegenssen seriously, "dell him nod to gall on me again. I shall pe gross--yess! A griminal! I shall eggsdinguish him! He shall hof ter fire out!" Blaythwayt was surprised at the man's vehemence. "There's no actual evidence against him," he explained erroneously, "but the police know him for a criminal and they're anxious to get a conviction." In this he was nearer the truth. "It'd be unpleasant for you to be known as a friend of Snooper's. I thought I'd take the liberty of warning you." The Swede nodded. "I am gradeful. Thang you. Goot-pye!" He left in his usual abrupt manner, and Joe Blaythwayt returned to his desk with a comfortable feeling of having at last found an opportunity of giving a practical demonstration of his knowledge of the criminal classes.