“Mr. Narkom!”

It was an hour later, and Cleek’s voice broke the silence abruptly. He had taken out his notebook and had been scribbling in it for some little time, but now, as he spoke, he tore out the written leaf and passed it over to the superintendent.

“Mr. Narkom, I refused, in the beginning, to give you the address of the little house at which I was located. Here it is. Put it in your pocketbook against future need, will you?”

“Yes, certainly. But cinnamon! old chap, what good is it to me now when you’ve left the place?”

“You will understand, perhaps, when I tell you that Miss Lorne is its present occupant. It was for that I took it in the beginning. There may come a need to communicate with her; there may come a need for her to communicate with you. There’s always a chance, you know, that a candle may be put out when the wind blows at it from all directions; and if anything should happen—I mean if—er—anything having a bearing upon me personally that you think she ought to be told should come to pass—well, just go to her at once, will you?—there’s a dear friend. That’s the address (don’t lose it) and full directions how to get there speedily. I am giving it to you now, as we shall soon be in town again and I shall leave you directly we arrive there. I’m in haste to get back to Dollops and see if between us we can’t hit upon some plan, he and I, to get at the whereabouts of Waldemar. That plain-clothes man of yours is like the butler with the bottle of cider—he ‘doesn’t seem to get any forrarder.’”

“Kibblewhite!” blurted out the superintendent, sitting up sharply. “Well, of all the born jackasses, of all the mutton-heads in this world——”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to be very bright, I must say.”

“He? Lud! I wasn’t talking about him; I was talking about myself. I had something to tell you to-day, and this blessed business drove it clean out of my head. Kibblewhite had the dickens and all of a time trying to get at that chap Serpice, as you may remember?”

“I do—in a measure. Succeeded in finding out, finally, that the carriage he drove was one he hired from a liveryman by the month, I think was the last report you gave me; but couldn’t get any further with the business because Serpice took it into his head not to call for the carriage again and made off, this Kibblewhite chap didn’t know where, and appears never to have found a means of discovering.”

“No; he didn’t. But ten days ago he got word from the liveryman that Serpice had just turned up and was about to make use of the carriage again; and off Kibblewhite cut, hotfoot, in the hope of being able to follow him. No go, however. By the time he arrived at the stable Serpice had already gone; so there was nothing left for the poor disappointed chap to do but to go out on the hunt and see if he couldn’t pick him up somewhere in the streets.”

“Which he didn’t, of course?”

“Excuse me—which he did. But it was late in the afternoon and he was coming back to the stable with the carriage empty. Also, it was in the thick of the traffic at Ludgate Circus, and Kibblewhite was so afraid the fellow might mix himself up in it and give him the slip that he took a chance shot to prevent it. Nipping up the officer on point, he made himself and his business known, and, in a winking, in nips the constable, hauls Mr. Serpice up sharp, and arrests him for driving a public vehicle without a license.”

“Well played, Kibblewhite!” approved Cleek. “That, of course, meant that the fellow would be arrested and have to give his address and all the rest of it?”

“So Kibblewhite himself thought; but what does the beggar do but turn the tables on him in the most unexpected manner by absolutely refusing to do anything of the kind, and, as he did not have a license, and would not call anybody to pay his fine, the magistrate finished the business by committing him to jail for ten days in default. And here’s the thing I was ass enough to forget: His ten days’ imprisonment was up this morning; Kibblewhite, in disguise, was to be outside the jail to follow him when he was discharged and see where he went, and he told me to look for him to turn up at the Yard before six this evening with a full report of the result of his operations.”

“Bravo!” said Cleek, leaning back in his seat, with a sigh of satisfaction. “I’ve changed my mind about leaving you, Mr. Narkom; we will go on to the Yard together. As, in all probability, after ten days without being able to communicate with his pals or with Waldemar, our friend Serpice will be hot to get to them at once and explain the cause of his long absence, the chances are that Kibblewhite will have something of importance to report at last.”

He had, as they found out when, in the fulness of time, they arrived at the Yard and were told that he was waiting for them in the superintendent’s office, and in his excitement he almost threw it at them, so eager he was to report.

“I’ve turned the trick at last, Superintendent,” he cried. “The silly josser played straight into my hands, sir. The minute he was out of jail he made a beeline for Soho, and me after him, and there he ‘takes to earth’ in a rotten little restaurant in the worst part of the district; and when I nips over and has a look inside, there he was shakin’ hands with a lot of Frenchies of his own kind, and them all prancin’ about and laughin’ like they’d gone off their bloomin’ heads. I sees there aren’t no back door to the place, and I knows from that that he’d have to come out the same way as he went in, so off I nips over to the other side of the street and lays in wait for him.

“After about ten minutes or so, out he comes—him and another of the lot—moppin’ of his mouth with his coat-sleeve, and off they starts in a great hurry, and me after them. They goes first to a barber shop, where the man I was followin’ nips in, has a shave, a hair-cut and a wash-up, while the chap that was with him toddles off and fetches him a clean shirt and a suit of black clothes. In about fifteen minutes out my man comes again, makin’ a tolerable respectable appearance, sir, after his barberin’ and in his clean linen and decent clothes. Him and his mate stands talkin’ and grinnin’ for a minute or so, then they shakes hands and separates, and off my man cuts it, westward.

“Sir, I sticks to him like a brother. I follers him smack across to the Strand and along that to the Hotel Cecil, and there the beggar nips in and goes up the courtyard as bold as you please, sends up his name to a gent, the gent sends down word for him to be showed up at once, and in that way I spots my man. For when I goes up to the clerk and shows my badge and asks who was the party my johnnie had asked for, he tells me straight and clear: ‘Gentleman he’s making a suit of clothes for—Baron Rodolf de Montravenne, an Austrian nobleman, who has been stopping here for weeks!”

Cleek twitched round his eye and glanced at Narkom.

“‘Things least hidden are best hidden,’” he quoted, smiling. “The dear count knows a thing or two, you perceive. You have done very well indeed, Kibblewhite. Here is your ten-pound note and many thanks for your services. Good evening.”Kibblewhite took the money and his departure immediately; but so long as he remained within hearing distance—so long as the echo of his departing steps continued to sound—Cleek remained silent, and the curious crooked smile made a loop in his cheek. But of a sudden:

“Mr. Narkom,” he said, quietly “I shan’t be found in any of my usual haunts for the next few days. If, however, you should urgently need me, call at the Hotel Cecil and ask for Captain Maltravers—and call in disguise, please; our friend the count is keen. Remember the name. Or, better still, write it down.”

“But, good God! Cleek, such a risk as that——”

“No—please—don’t attempt to dissuade me. I want that man, and I’ll get him if getting him be humanly possible. That’s all. Thanks very much. Good-bye.”

Then the door opened and shut, and by the time Mr. Narkom could turn round from writing down the name he had been given, he was quite alone in the room.