The atmosphere was electric. It seemed to have temporarily hypnotised all but two of them--Bill Kennedy--who was leaning back in his chair with a grin of pure delight on his ugly face, and Sir John Marker, who was tapping his teeth reflectively with a pencil and apparently considering Storm's proposition as seriously as he would have considered a question in the House. "It is an extraordinary situation, Captain Arden," he admitted. "I can see your point--up to a point. But if, as you say, your father is involved, hadn't you better pass the case over to someone else?" "No," said Storm steadily. "Can't you be a little more explicit, then?" "I can tell you this: I first suspected my man on a day when I had a slight accident." Storm spoke slowly and evenly, ignoring the stunned faces of the Board and addressing his remarks to the Home Secretary. He was standing erect, with the tips of his fingers resting on the table in front of him, completely at ease. "I was driving down Cockspur Street, and my car skidded and knocked Raegenssen down. There were present Mr. Blaythwayt, manager of the Lombard Street City and Continental; Mattock, a convict on licence employed by Raegenssen; and Miss Hawthorne, Lord Hannassay's secretary. Of those people, two were in a position to note the same thing as I did--the first piece of evidence against my father." He smiled again at their perplexity. "Acting on this, I burgled Raegenssen last night, and learnt something of the next coup planned by the Triangle. I also acquired a fresh suspicion, which I hope to verify soon. But that's all speculation. The solid fact," he said, watching them with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, "is that one is always interested in a saw-mill which has recently received a consignment of machinery and materials that have nothing whatever to do with the sawing of wood!" "Do we have to play at Sexton Blake when there aren't any reporters with us?" drawled Bill Kennedy. Storm grinned. "I must have notice of that question," he murmured, and sat down. Then the bottled-up feelings of the Police Chiefs had their vent, and a hum of argument broke out like the snarl of numerous irritated bees. Marker remained aloof, taking no part in the discussion, but listening shrewdly to what his neighbours had to say. Bill Kennedy waved a hand to Storm and lighted a cigar, seemingly bored with the whole business. Inspector Teal was shaking his head. "Never," he muttered breathlessly, "never, never did I hope to see this day.... Kent Road's nothin'--he's knocked 'em on the old Embankment and he's got away with it...." His vast form vibrated with Titanic ecstasy.... "'Flat-footed half-wits ... you can take your choice!' ... Oh, Boy!... _Oh_, BOY!..." "Teal!" whispered Storm reprovingly. "This mirth is nearly indecent!"