"Nothing whatever, sir." "H’m. I cannot understand it. Send it out again by wireless telephone; he may be on his way back by aeroplane now, and possibly within reach." "Right, sir," and Jones disappeared to stab the ether waves again in search of Keane. At that moment the telephone bell on the Commissioner’s desk rang. It was the Home Secretary asking for Colonel Tempest, for the same messages concerning the aerial brigand had reached him. "Hello, Tempest; is that you?" "Yes; who is that?" "Lord Hamilton, speaking from the Home Office." "Oh, yes, my lord." "I say, Tempest, what is this news just to hand about aerial highwaymen romping half round the British empire, destroying wireless stations, and burning out the big oil tanks along the All-Red Route? I thought you had all these aerial criminals well in hand. There’ll be a deuce of a row about all this when Parliament meets in two days’ time." "Well, er--we’re doing our best to deal with it, sir, but it will take time to lay these fellows by the heel, I fear." "Have you got the matter in hand?" "Yes, sir." "What have you done? I shall be bombarded with questions shortly; in fact, the Colonial Secretary’s here now. He’s complaining that the routes are not sufficiently well patrolled. What steps have you taken to deal with these marauders?" "I’ve wirelessed to all the aerial stations, to get their fastest scouts out all along the line at once to look for these bandits, and I’m staying on here all night expecting news every moment." "Very well. Keep me informed of everything that happens. It’s becoming very serious. You have full powers to deal effectively with these criminals, and they may be shot down at sight if they don’t respond to signals." Then, as the angry minister rang off, another tap was heard at the door, and the imperturbable Jones entered once more, and announced: "Message from Keane and Sharpe came in whilst you were speaking on the telephone, sir." "Good!" ejaculated Tempest, as he wiped the perspiration from his brow, for he had expected something much worse from the Home Secretary. "What does the message say?" "They received my last message, sir, and are on their way home by the fastest aeroplane. They are due at Hounslow aerodrome at midnight." "Excellent! What time is it now, Jones?" "It wants ten minutes to midnight, sir, and I have sent out the fastest car to meet them and bring them straight here. They should be here in half an hour, sir." "Have you told them at Hounslow?" "Yes, sir, and they have already got out the coloured lights and the ground flares." "You have done well, Jones, but you had better not leave the office to-night. I’m very sorry, but I may want you. This is urgent business; we’re up against something this time, and unless Keane and Sharpe have found something out, we’re going to be beaten."