It was this man against whom I was to fight—this man who had proven himself more than a match for some of the best brains of both continents. The prospect was not reassuring. I knew that already several attempts had been made by our agents to secure the protocol, with the result that Limantour was sure to be more on his guard than he ordinarily would have been. Yet I _must_ succeed—and it was plain that I could do so only by violence. Violence it should be, then; and with the assistance of my friend _The Salmon_—to whom, you may be sure, I did not confide my real object—I prepared a plan of campaign, which we duly presented to a group of _The Salmon’s_ friends, who had been selected to assist us. To these men—Apaches, every one of them—I was presented as a decayed gentleman who for reasons of his own had found it necessary to join the forces of _The Salmon_. I was a good fellow, _The Salmon_ assured them, and by way of proving my friendship I had shared with him my knowledge of a good “prospect” whom I had discovered. “The man,” I said, “always carries lots of money and jewelry.” Of course I did not tell them his name was Limantour. I said he always played cards late at the club. “To stick him up,” I said, “will be the simplest thing in the world, but we must be careful not to hurt him badly—not enough to set the police hot on our trail.” The Apaches fell in with the proposal enthusiastically. We would attempt it the following night. Now the instructions which came to me under the sweatband of the black derby in the Café Americaine informed me that every night quite late Limantour received at the club a copy of the report of the day’s conference with the Japanese envoy. It was prepared and delivered to Limantour by his secretary and it was his habit to study it, upon returning home, and plan out his line of attack for the negotiations of the following day. I concluded that Limantour therefore would have it (the report) on his person when he left the club. Accordingly I had my Apaches waiting in the shadows. There were five of us. Limantour started to walk home, as I knew he was frequently in the habit of doing. We followed and in the first quiet street that he ventured down, he was blackjacked. In his pockets we found a little money and some papers, one glance of which assured me were of no value.