The Amateur Cracksman
"Certain enough; but we can make assurance doubly sure," said Raffles, and went to my window, where he stood for a minute or two looking down into the street.
"All right?" I asked him.
"All right," said he; and we went down-stairs forthwith, and so to the Albany arm-in-arm.
But we were both rather silent on the way. I, for my part, was wondering what Raffles would do about the studio in Chelsea, whither, at all events, he had been successfully dogged. To me the point seemed one of immediate importance, but when I mentioned it he said there was time enough to think about that. His one other remark was made after we had nodded (in Bond Street) to a young blood of our acquaintance who happened to be getting himself a bad name.
"Poor Jack Rutter!" said Raffles, with a sigh. "Nothing's sadder than to see a fellow going to the bad like that. He's about mad with drink and debt, poor devil! Did you see his eye? Odd that we should have met him to-night, by the way; it's
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