Poltavo had escaped. There was pother enough--eight of the Nine Bears had melted into nothingness. No official feather came to T. B.'s cap for that, whatever praise the mistaken public might award. Worst of all, and most shocking outrage of all, the Record Office at Scotland Yard had been burgled and important documents had been stolen. But Elk had not been killed, so the incident did not come before the public.
The contents of the documents were not lost to the police, for Scotland Yard does not put all its eggs into one basket, even when the basket is as secure a one as the Record Office. There were photographs innumerable of the scrap of paper, and one of these was on T. B. Smith's desk the morning after the robbery.
The memorandum, for such it was, was contained in less than a hundred words. Literally, and with all its erasures written out, it ran:
"Idea [crossed out]. Ideas [written again]. Suppose we separated; where to meet; allowing for accidental partings; must be some spot; yet that would be dangerous; otherwise, must be figures easily remembered; especially as none of these people have knowledge [crossed out and rewritten]; especially as difficult for non-technical [word undecipherable] to fix in mind, and one cipher makes all difference. LOLO be good, accessible, unfrequented. Suggest on first Ju every year we rendezvous at Lolo.
That was all, and T. B. read and reread the memorandum. Zillier was the only man who knew. By the oddest of chances, Baggin had confided his plans to the one man who might have found them useful if Providence had given him one chance of escape. But the French Government had him safe enough on Devil's Island.
For the rest, the "note" needed much more explanation than he could give it.
He took a pen and began to group the sentences he could not understand.
"Must be some spot; yet that would be dangerous; otherwise, must be figures easily remembered."
A spot would be dangerous? He was perplexed and showed it. What was meant by "spot"?
"On the 1st of Ju we rendezvous at Lolo--nowhere!"
"This is absolute nonsense!" The detective threw down his pen and jumped up.
He called in the Chief Commissioner's office and was received cordially.
"Any news, T. B.; what do you make of your puzzle?"