“But to return to my own narrative. Five years ago I was broke, and I decided to have another attempt to get my money; and there was also the fact that a very large sum of money waited reclaiming at Eastleigh, always providing that I had not been identified as the man who bought the house. It took me a long time before I made absolutely certain that I was unknown, and then, with the title deeds in my pocket, I sailed on a cattle-boat and landed, as you have said, Mr. Elk, with a few dollars in my pocket, at Southampton. I went straight to the house, which was now in a shocking state of repair, and there I made myself as comfortable as I possibly could whilst, night after night, I toiled in the well to recover the small box of money, amounting to a very considerable sum. When this was recovered, I left for Paris, and the rest, so far as my public history is concerned, you know. “I then began my search for Frog, and I very soon saw that, if I depended upon the identification of the tattoo marks, my search was hopeless. Naturally, when I discovered, as I soon did, that Maitland was a Frog, I narrowed my search to that office. I discovered that Maitland was an illiterate by the simple expedient of stopping him in the street one day near his house, and showing him an envelope on which I had written ‘You are a fake,’ and asking him if he knew the address. He pointed to a house farther along the street, and hurried in.” “I knew that Maitland could neither read nor write when I learnt that the children’s clothes had been left at Eldor Street,” said Dick, “and from that moment I knew that Johnson was the Frog.” “Joshua Broad” nodded. “That, I think, is about all I have to say. Johnson was a genius. The way he handled that huge organization, which he ran practically in his spare time when he was away from the office, was a revelation. He drew everybody into his net, and yet nobody knew him. Balder was a godsend; he was perhaps the highest paid agent of the lot. You will find that his income ran into six figures!” * * * * * * When “Joshua Broad” had gone back to London, Dick walked with Elk to the garden gate. “I shan’t be coming up for a little while,” he said. “I never expected you would,” said Elk. “Say, Captain Gordon, what happened to those two wooden boxes that were in the quarry hut last night?” “I didn’t see the boxes.” “I saw them,” said Elk, nodding. “They were there when we took Miss Bennett away, and when I came back with the police they were gone, and ‘Joshua Broad’ was there all the time,” he added. They looked at one another. “I don’t think I should inquire too closely into that matter,” said Dick. “I owe ‘Broad’ something.” “I owe him a bit too,” said Elk with a hint of enthusiasm. “Do you know, he taught me a rhyme last night? There are about a hundred and fifty verses, but I only know four. It starts: