silent as a muffler," I added, taking good-humouredly the general
laugh that greeted my mixed metaphor.

"You've suggested the precise idea, Marshall, by your very
objection," broke in Garrick, who up to this time had been silent
as to his own plan.

"I've a brand-new system of espionage. Trust it to me, and you can
all have your way."




CHAPTER XII

THE DETECTAPHONE


I found it difficult to share Garrick's optimism, however. It
seemed to me that again the best laid plans of one that I had come
to consider among the cleverest of men had been defeated, and it
is not pleasant to be defeated, even temporarily. But Garrick was
certainly not discouraged.

As he had said at the start, it was no ordinary criminal with whom
we had to deal. That was clear. There had been gunmen and gangmen
in New York for years, we knew, but this fellow seemed to be the
last word, with his liquid bullets, his anesthetic shells and his
stupefying gun.