Chance favored Blount again next day. He was walking along toward Newgate, undecided whether to call on Sanders or try "down Blackwall way," when he met a brother detective. "Hello Morgan!" he said, "through with your job already?"

"Yes—and so is everyone else on that job for the present," replied Morgan, ruefully.

"Why—what's the trouble?" asked Blount, sympathetically.

"Let's go somewhere and I'll tell you all about it."

They adjourned to a nearby public-house and Morgan related his trouble.

He had been detailed to a large stationer's to find out who was committing a series of petty thefts, and was employed as a salesman, in order to familiarize him with the place and the people. He had already gained some information, and would probably have accomplished his work, but for an accident. That morning he had detected a young lad pocketing a fancy glass paper-weight, and was about to stop and take it from him quietly, but before he could even leave his place behind the counter the proprietor, who had also observed the theft, rushed forward and collared the boy.

"And what do you suppose the chuckle-headed idiot did then? Called out, 'Morgan! Morgan! Why don't you arrest this young thief? What are you here for?' The blasted fool! Of course that settled it for me—but I couldn't have any better luck!"

"How's that?"

"Oh! I don't know! I'm a bit superstitious about some people, and this lad belonged to that little Jew attorney, Jacobs, and you remember when I arrested him two years ago I broke my leg next day jumping off the train at Charing Cross. Now his imp of a boy comes along and helps to spoil a good job!"

Blount sympathized, as in duty bound, and ordered another pot of beer. Morgan was a really bright fellow, much younger than Blount, and a protÉgÉ of the latter.

Although now interested on his own account in everything concerning Mr. Jacobs, it was more from habit than anything else Blount inquired what the boy wanted so far away from his employer's office.

"Some peculiar kind of paper—a kind that's shipped a great deal to Australia and other colonies, I believe—and come to think of it, the youngster had several packages of chemicals in his pocket when arrested. Shouldn't wonder if that fellow Jacobs was up to some knavery again."

Blount was all interest in a moment, and said:

"Morgan, I'm on a big thing and I think I'll ask for your assistance. I don't know whether I can get it or not, but I'll risk telling you to go back and see this youngster before reporting at the office. I will go there and attend to that and meet you there when you get back. Get everything you possibly can out of the boy, and if necessary promise him liberty. This may be an important discovery."

They parted, and Blount on reaching the "office" gave a short account of what Morgan had told him, and then asked for the latter's assistance in "the Martin matter," as it was now known in police circles.

The inspector was an old friend of Blount's, and although he pretended to be tired of it, was himself interested in the Martin matter.

"Yes, you can have him, I suppose, but that Martin matter will be the death of me, I'm afraid." And having fired this shot the inspector left "for a few minutes," but when Morgan entered at the end of a half hour he had not returned. Blount accordingly informed him that he had obtained the necessary permission.

"And I'll take it on myself to say you need not wait to report now. Come along! We can talk as we walk. We must get down to Blackwall."

Once on the street, however, Morgan stopped him and hurriedly related his interview with the boy.

"By George! Morgan, this is connected with the Martin matter, I'll bet a shilling!"

"What is all this gambling about? The Martin matter?" asked the inspector, who had come behind them unobserved.

"You've just hit it," returned Blount, on seeing who had addressed them. "And you must help me a good deal this time. Come inside."

The three entered, and after a hard fought battle Blount came out triumphant, and hurried Morgan away with this parting injunction:

"Do anything—plead, steal, lie, anything—but get the boy out before they notice his absence. When you are through meet me at Horn's at Blackwall. Now jump!"

Having delivered this not altogether pious exhortation, Blount walked leisurely in the direction of Blackwall, while his partner hurried off in the opposite direction.

"I'll get him! I'll get him yet—and soon, too!" ruminated Mr. Blount, and he smiled with the satisfaction peculiar to the man who is reaching the point where he proves his theory to be the correct one.

Reaching Blackwall, he sauntered about, stopping occasionally when he ran across a high flavored public-house, asking a question here and there, and finally dropped in to see the inspector of the Blackwall district.

This gentleman, with whom he was very well acquainted, had not as yet run across either of the men; but, of course, this was only the first day that he knew they were wanted. Still, they must be keeping pretty quiet—if they were in his district—or he would have known something about them.

It was now about time for Morgan to arrive, and bidding the inspector "good-bye" Blount strolled along to "Horn's,"—the most respectable public-house in the district—and found his comrade awaiting him.

"Well?" he said, interrogatively.

"It's all right! The boy's back at work and will be at my house to-morrow night, when it is expected Jacobs will be back. I was afraid to say to-night, not knowing what was on here."

"Good!" commented Blount.

"And let me know what I am doing—I can work to better advantage."

"Correct. You shall hear it all before dark, and we can do nothing more until then."

Blount related in detail the full history of the Martin matter as far as he knew, and it was dark when he concluded his story.

"And now you must stay right here all the time until you find Jaggers. I'm satisfied the girl told me the truth to-day, and that he told her the truth while drunk last night. He don't know you, so you can go about as you are; but I shall have to make a little change, so that he may not be alarmed if he catches sight of me first."

After a hearty meal Morgan engaged a room at Horn's and thither they proceeded. Here Blount made his "little change," which, however, would enable him to pass his closest friend without fear of recognition. Being satisfied of this, he together with Morgan made a tour of the public-houses of high and low degree embraced in the Blackwall district, but without success.

"Never mind," he said, on returning to Horn's, "I'm satisfied he's here, and we'll get him before the week's out if we look sharp. I'll see you when you get back to-morrow night. Good-night."