When Hall arrived in Liverpool he proceeded at once to London. His valet was careful to see that he did not come unannounced—at least in Bow Street—and from thence the information reached the new servant in Harley Street.

Hall, however, remained only a day in London. After spending one night in Harley Street, he informed his landlady he was going away again for a day or two and that he expected some letters. Any arriving the day of his departure were to be forwarded to Hanley Hall. Those arriving after that were to be held.

Farrel was then ordered to "pack up a few things," and at noon they started for Hanley Hall. On arriving, Hall was annoyed to find Mr. Stafford and Kate absent. They had gone, so he was informed, to what might be the death-bed of a very dear friend of the family,—"which is only the truth, you know," said Miss Fleming, as she concluded telling Mrs. Stafford just what must be said to Hall.

Although much annoyed, Hall preserved a calm exterior, and asked where they had gone.

"To Staffordshire," Miss Fleming replied, very promptly, not giving Mrs. Stafford a chance to commit herself.

Hall looked at her sharply. Her face seemed to trouble him, as it had Martin.

"When do you expect Mr. Stafford to return?" Hall addressed Mrs. Stafford, but again Miss Fleming interposed.

"Of course that must depend on the recovery or death of their friend," she said, with a mischievous smile.

Hall would have much preferred questioning Mrs. Stafford and receiving his answers from her, and suspecting, this Mrs. Stafford said she must leave them for a little while. Miss Fleming would entertain him.

Miss Fleming rattled off a lot of small talk, to which Hall barely paid attention. At length a break occurred in the conversation, and he said:

"Do you know, Miss Fleming, I seem to know your face—yet I can't remember where."

"It must have been my photograph," she replied, with an innocent smile.

"Precisely! I found a locket a couple years ago with your photograph in it—I knew I had seen your face somewhere!"

"Could you let me see it, Mr. Hall?" with the same innocent smile.

"No, I regret to say I cannot; although what has become of it I do not know. But I beg you will tell Mrs. Stafford I had to go, as I wish to catch the train back and I have barely time to do so," and having driven a very large nail in his own coffin, Hall left immediately, while Miss Fleming at once wrote Carden an account of her conversation with him regarding the locket.

When Hall alighted from the train in London, he ran plump into a gentleman of rather disreputable appearance, who cordially "blawsted" Mr. Hall's "heyes" and consigned his soul to everlasting perdition.

Hall did not recognize the burly individual and paid no attention to him, but the other appeared to recognize him and heard him give the order to drive to No. — Harley Street.

"So yer back are ye!" he muttered. "Mebbe I'll give ye a call afore ye know it!"

It was our old friend Jaggers, and after Hall was driven away he stood for some time in deep thought. After a while he moved off in a hesitating way. Then apparently coming to a sudden resolution, he muttered a horrible oath, saying—"I'll do it!" and walked quickly in the direction of the den known as "Blind Jim's," where Blount had met him regarding the murder.

On arriving at "Blind Jim's" he sought a desperate character known as "The Knifer," and both adjourned to a private room.

It was early in the evening, and though the two conversed very earnestly until after midnight, and "The Knifer" appeared to have money, they drank but little—which caused the proprietor of the den to remark that "the boys in number six must have a little business on hand."

He was not far out of the way, for about one o'clock the "boys" left the house and proceeded stealthily to No. — Harley Street.

Farrel, the valet, had obtained leave of absence, and no one but Hall slept on the second floor that night. He had come back from Hanley Hall in an ugly temper, and had spent the evening drinking—in fact had gone to bed pretty drunk. And he had what is called the drunken man's luck, for had he gone to bed sober he would undoubtedly have been awakened when our friend Jaggers, in removing his watch from the dressing-case, knocked over a glass globe. Had he awakened "The Knifer," who was bending over him, would have plunged the knife which gained him the title into Hall's heart. However, being drunk, he slept on undisturbed by the noise and escaped bodily injury.

In the morning when he awakened, Hall looked for his watch to see the time, and not finding it looked for his vest, never doubting it was there, but the vest contained no watch. Instead of becoming angry Hall began to look troubled and searched among the garments he had removed the night before. Piece after piece was thrown hurriedly on the floor, but what he sought—and it could not have been his valuable watch which he risked handling so recklessly—was not there.

Sinking back on the bed he stared around the room. Suddenly his gaze fell upon the open rear window, and running to it he saw a ladder raised against the rear of the house. It was quite clear to him now—he had been robbed while lying in a drunken stupor, and realizing this he cursed himself and his folly and his misfortune.

After a few minutes he closed the window, and going to a closet took out a bottle of brandy, which he had just managed to put away the night before. Bestowing another curse on this, he took a drink of it and sat down to think. Suddenly he brightened up, and seizing a pencil wrote the following advertisement:

"There, that looks hopeful—that is, if the fools have not thrown it away!" exclaimed Hall, as he read over the advertisement.

He dressed rapidly and went out without saying a word about his loss, and before breakfasting left a copy of the advertisement at the office of every newspaper in London, with orders to insert it for a week.

"What precious lambs 'e must take us for!" exclaimed "The Knifer" as he read the advertisement in the paper next day.

"Werry!" rejoined Jaggers. "I wonder wot 'e thinks ve took the bloody pad for? Hundergarment 'e calls it!"

When a week had passed without receiving any response to his advertisement Hall changed it to the following:

This, too, came under the notice of Jaggers and his friend. The latter glanced at the advertisement covetously and said:

"Hi wonder 'ow much 'igher 'ee'll go?"

"Don't you bother yer 'ead about that! 'E can't get 'em if 'e went as 'igh as the bloomin' moon!" retorted Jaggers, savagely.