Labar nodded. The cleanup promised, so far as he could see, to keep him busy indefinitely. For each individual case among the prisoners was certain to involve a multitude of inquiries, to say nothing of a ream of dockets and other correspondence. The time likely to be spent in court was not inconsiderable, but that would be the least of his troubles. Meanwhile he had a wish as a point of personal pride to be the man who should effect the arrest of Larry Hughes⁠—a thing which he began to fear would be unlikely. Scotland Yard, in looking for results, cares very little whether Smith, Brown or Robinson brings off the final coup. If there were other matters to occupy Labar he would have to stand aside. Nor could he rid himself of an undercurrent of feeling that Penelope was not to be regarded as safe until Larry was under lock and key.

Something of what was passing in his mind he managed to indicate. “It’s going to be hard luck on me if I don’t get a chance to go and get Larry,” he observed.