Bundle again felt baffled. She sat in silence till a man came in with a typewritten sheet of paper, which he handed to the Superintendent.

“Here you are,” said the latter when the other had left the room. “The Blood Brothers of St. Sebastian. The Wolf Hounds. The Comrades of Peace. The Comrades Club. The Friends of Oppression. The Children of Moscow. The Red Standard Bearers. The Herrings. The Comrades of the Fallen⁠—and half a dozen more.”

He handed it to her with a distinct twinkle in his eye.

“You give it to me,” said Bundle, “because you know it’s not going to be the slightest use to me. Do you want me to leave the whole thing alone?”

“I should prefer it,” said Battle. “You see⁠—if you go messing round all these places⁠—well, it’s going to give us a lot of trouble.”

“Looking after me, you mean?”