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"
"Curse that villain of a chauffeur," muttered Wachtmann, looking
down at the wounded man.
"Do you know who he is?" asked Craig with a searching glance at
Wachtmann's face.
"I ought to. His name is Kronski, and a blacker devil an
employment bureau never furnished."
"Kronski? No," corrected Kennedy. "It is Professor Kumanova, whom
you perhaps have heard of as a leader of the Red Brotherhood, one
of the cleverest scientific criminals who ever lived. I think
you'll have no more trouble negotiating your loan or your love
affair, Count," added Craig, turning on his heel.
He was in no mood to receive the congratulations of the
supercilious Wachtmann. As far as Craig was concerned, the case
was finished, although I fancied from a flicker of his eye as he
made some passing reference to the outcome that when he came to
send in a bill to Brixton for his services he would not forget the
high eyebrowed Count.
I followed in silence as Craig climbed into the Brixton car and
explained to the banker that it was imperative that he should get
back to the city immediately.


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