In the doorway O’Hagan turned again and bowed. Then, straight downstairs we hastened—he with the package in an inside pocket—and through to the street, unquestioned. A taxi-cab had just discharged a visitor at the door, and O’Hagan detained the man with a short, imperious gesture. We leapt in. “Café de l’Orient, Greek Street,” said my friend. “Three-and-nine if you get there in five minutes!” ————— IV. THE CONSPIRATORS. The cab having moved on,— “I regret,” began O’Hagan, “that we have m…
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