“A _gang,_” repeated Mr. Brunger, immensely relishing the word. “We detectives do not like to speak with certainty until we have clapped our hands upon our men; we leave that for the amateurs, the bunglers--the _quacks_ of our profession.” The famous confidential inquiry agent tapped the table with his forefinger and proceeded impressively. “But I will say this much. Not only a gang, but a desperate gang, a dangerous, stick-at-nothing gang.” Mr. Marrapit writhed. The detective continued: “What are our grounds for this belief?” he asked. “What are our _data_?” He looked at George. George shook his head. Easy enough, and useful, to acquiesce in the idea of a gang, but uncommonly hard to support the belief. He shook his head. Mr. Brunger was disappointed; a little at sea, he would have clutched eagerly at any aid. However, “impress your client.” He continued: “These are our data. We have a valuable cat--a cat, sir, upon which the eyes of cat-breeders are enviously fixed. Take America--you have had surprising offers from America for this cat, sir, so you told me?” “Eight hundred pounds,” Mr. Marrapit groaned. “Precisely. Observe how our data accumulate. We have dissatisfaction among breeders at home because you will not employ this cat as, in their opinion, for the good of the breed, she should be employed.” Mr. Marrapit moaned: “Polygamy is abhorrent to me.” “Precisely. Our data positively pile about us. We have a thousand enthusiasts yearning for this cat. We have your refusal to sell or to--to--” Mr. Brunger allowed a hiatus delicately to express his meaning. “Then depend upon it, sir, we have a determination to secure this cat by foul means since fair will not avail. We have a conspiracy among unscrupulous breeders to obtain this valuable cat, and hence, sir, we have a gang--a _gang_.” Mr. Marrapit put his anguish of mind into two very deep groans. “Keep calm, my dear sir,” Mr. Brunger soothed. “We shall return your cat. We have our data.” He continued: “Now, sir, there are two ways of dealing with a _gang_. We can capture the _gang_ or we can seduce the _gang_--by offering a reward.” George jumped in his chair. “Anything wrong?” Mr. Brunger inquired. “Your--your extraordinary grasp of the case astonishes me,” George exclaimed. “Experience, sir, experience,” said Mr. Brunger airily. Addressing Mr. Marrapit, “We must put both methods to work,” he continued. “I shall now go to town, look up the chief breeders and set members of my trained staff to track them. Also I must advertise this reward. With a cat of such value we cannot use half measures. Shall we say one hundred pounds to start with?” “Barley water!” gasped Mr. Marrapit. “Barley water!” George sprang to the sideboard where always stood a jug of Mr. Marrapit's favourite refreshment. Mr. Marrapit drank, agitation rattling the glass against his teeth. “Think what it means to you, sir,” persuaded Mr. Brunger, a little alarmed at the effects of his proposal.