Whittington seemed to remonstrate with him, but he merely
laughed.

"Why not, my friend? It is a name most respectable--most common.
Did he not choose it for that reason? Ah, I should like to meet
him--Mr. Brown."

There was a steely ring in Whittington's voice as he replied:

"Who knows? You may have met him already."

"Bah!" retorted the other. "That is children's talk--a fable for
the police. Do you know what I say to myself sometimes? That he
is a fable invented by the Inner Ring, a bogy to frighten us
with. It might be so."

"And it might not."

"I wonder ... or is it indeed true that he is with us and amongst
us, unknown to all but a chosen few? If so, he keeps his secret
well. And the idea is a good one, yes. We never know. We look
at each other--ONE OF US IS MR. BROWN--which? He commands--but
also he serves. Among us--in the midst of us. And no one knows
which he is...."

With an effort the Russian shook off the vagary of his fancy. He
looked at his watch.

"Yes," said Whittington. "We might as well go."