Juve stood there listening; a posse of men was surrounding the house. CHAPTER XXVII JUVE’S BAG An hour or so before these events, while it was still night, the police-officers on duty at the head Commissariat office at Alfort were roused from the peaceful doze they were indulging in by the unexpected arrival of an individual who seemed breathless and exhausted as if he had been running a great distance. “The Commissary?” he demanded. The sergeant shrugged his shoulders. “You may be very sure he’s not here.” “And his deputy?” “He’s away too, of course.” “Who is in command here then?” The sergeant indicated himself. “Well, if you must know, I am; who are you? what do you want?” Curtly, in measured tones, the man explained: “Who am I! I am Tom Bob, American detective, specially known of late days at the Prefecture of Police and in the city for his war against Fantômas!” The sergeant nodded and saluted; he had heard tell of Tom Bob and recognized the foreign police-officer from the numerous descriptions and portraits he had read and seen of him. “What can I do to serve you?” he asked. Tom Bob told him: “You can arrest Fantômas!... at this moment he is close by with his gang of apaches round him; they are all gathered, he and his confederates, in a deserted house, at the far end of the military road, right hand side after the second cross-roads.” “I can see the shanty from here,” announced the sergeant, “a wretched hovel it is; but who is it tells us ...?” Tom Bob informed him curtly: “_I_ tell you, that is sufficient!... how many men have you?” “Eight.” “That’s not enough.” The sergeant was getting alarmed: “I can ask for more from the Charenton office!” “That’s the thing.” The sergeant got into communication by telephone with his colleague at the neighbouring police post. “There are fifteen over yonder,” he informed Tom Bob. “They must all come,” declared the detective, “Fantômas’ band counts at least a round dozen ruffians.” The detective’s requirements were transmitted from the Alfort office, and the fifteen Charenton officers promised to be there in a quarter of an hour. The gallant sergeant was greatly excited by the coming events; to avoid all doubt and make sure he was covered by his superiors, he asked: “Monsieur Bob, shall you be coming with us?” “Undoubtedly!” replied the American detective. But the sergeant was not satisfied yet. “I have a great mind,” he announced, “to go and inform the Commissary, he lives close by.” “You should have done that long ago!” Tom Bob said rebukingly. Then, while the sergeant was issuing his orders, the detective sat down in the public office, lit a cigarette, and did not vouchsafe another word. * * * * *