"Your tire tracks were all over that bit of building ground. And I called at your garage on my way here and found dry mud caked all over your wheels. You don't collect that sort of mud in the streets." Mr. Teal blinked twice and yawned. He became almost awake, "Mr. Arden, why can't you and me work together?" "That accusative makes me go all goosey!" complained Storm. "You and I," Mr. Teal corrected himself. "Why not? We'd get on much better." Storm exhaled a thin feather of smoke from the corner of his mouth. "You might," he said. "But then, you're only a detective." Inspector Teal accepted the proffered cigar. His mouth widened half an inch momentarily. "I shouldn't compromise you," he pleaded. Storm walked over to the window. "How did you come to visit Raegenssen at all?" he asked. "I was called early this morning," said Teal. "I haven't been to bed yet. So I heard all about the masked man and the fancy shooting, and then I remembered you'd promised to commit a few felonies. Besides, you can recognise a Hirondel's tracks--they've got a very wide wheel-base, and you can only fit Veloris tires." "Bit off your beat, wasn't it?" "No." The detective rummaged in his pocket and produced something that was familiar to Storm without a closer inspection. "Anything to do with Triangles is on my beat." Storm took the trinket and stared at it. Then he paced quickly up and down the room, his eyes half-closed and his cigarette tightened up in his lips. He raised his shoulders and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and then he stopped in his stride abruptly and turned. "Did you get that from Raegenssen?" Teal nodded. "The burglar came back, and the second time he left that. He and Raegenssen had a fight, but the Swede stopped one in the tummy." "Do you think I'm the Triangle?" asked Storm directly. Inspector Teal jerked the ash from his cigar. "No, I don't. But you know too much about it, and I wish you'd come across. There's an inquiry about that Moraine's stunt scheduled for this afternoon, and the Commissioner 'll be curious." "I want the whole yarn," Storm said after a short pause. "As heard from Raegenssen." "I can do better," said Teal. "A reporter who lives out that way was there even before I was. It was just ten when I came along Piccadilly, so I brought you in the midday edition of the _Evening Record_." Storm took the sheet and grinned. "You're an old cynic, Teal!" he reproved. He lounged over to the table and rested on the edge of it while he read with interest the brief account of the happenings in North London of the small hours of that morning. "An air of mystery surrounds the two attempts to burgle the house of Mr. Oscar Raegenssen, the well-known Swedish merchant, which took place last night. "How does a house take place, Teal? "Mr. Raegenssen had been to a theatre, and had thence proceeded to a night club-- "How shocking," murmured Storm.