Derrick Yale, on his way to his office, saw the announcement and read it and passed on, wondering what effect this would have upon the minor members of the gang he had been engaged to hunt. Thalia Drummond read it from the top of a bus, when that vehicle had pulled up close to a hoarding, to take on a passenger, and she smiled to herself. But the most remarkable effect of the poster was upon Harvey Froyant. It brought a colour to his face and a light to his eye which made him almost youthful. He, too, was on his way to the office when he read the announcement, but hurried back to his house and took from a drawer in his study a long list. They were the numbers of the bank-notes which the Crimson Circle had taken, and he had compiled them laboriously, almost lovingly. With his own hands he now made another copy, a work that occupied him until late in the morning. When he had finished he wrote a letter, and enclosing the new list of notes, he addressed it, posting the letter himself, to a firm of lawyers which he knew specialised in the tracing of lost and stolen property. Heggitts’ had rendered him good service before, and the next morning brought a representative of the firm, Mr. James Heggitt, the senior partner, a wizened little man with a chronic sniff. The name of Heggitt was not one which was universally respected, nor did lawyers, when they met, speak of it with affection or regard. And yet it was one of the most prosperous firms of lawyers in the city. The majority of its clients were on or over the border-line which separates the lawful from the unlawful, but to the law-abiding also it was very useful, and was frequently consulted by more eminent firms whose clients wished to recover valuable goods which had been taken by the light-fingered gentry. In some mysterious way Heggitts’ could always place their finger upon a “gentleman” who had “heard” of the property which was lost, and, in the majority of cases, the missing article was restored. “I got your note, Mr. Froyant,” said the little lawyer, “and I can tell you now that none of these notes are likely to go through the usual channels.” He paused and licked his lips, looking past Mr. Froyant. “The biggest ‘fence’ of all has gone, so I’m not doing him any injustice when I mention the fact.” “Who was that?” “Brabazon,” was the startling reply, and the other stared at him in astonishment. “You don’t mean Brabazon of Brabazon’s Bank?”