that it was a "very clean cop." There was some difficulty in finding the village constable, and Sir Valentine Quinton was dining out and did not arrive 
"He felt again in the place." for at least an hour. In the interval Wilks grew communicative.
"How much d'ye think I'll get?" he asked.
"Can't guess," Hewitt replied. "And as we shall probably have to give evidence, you'll be giving yourself away if you talk too much."
"Oh, I don't care—that'll make no difference. It's a fair cop, and I'm in for it. You got at me nicely, lending me three quid. I never knew a reeler do that before. That blinded me. But was it kid about Gold Street?"
"No, it wasn't. Mr. Hollams is safely shut up by this time, I expect, and you are avenged for your little trouble with him this afternoon."
"What did you know about that? . . . . Well, you've got it up nicely for me, I must say. S'pose you've been following me all the time?"
"Well, yes—I haven't been far off. I guessed you'd want to clear out of town if Hollams was taken, and I knew this"—Hewitt tapped his breast pocket—"was what you'd take care to get hold of first. You hid it, of course, because you knew that Hollams would probably have you searched for it if he got suspicious?"
"Yes, he did, too. Two blokes went over my pockets one night, and somebody got into my room. But I expected that. Hollams is such a greedy pig. Once he's got you under his thumb he don't give you half your makings, and if you kick, he'll have you smugged. So that I wasn't going to give him that if I could help it. I s'pose it ain't any good asking how you got put on to our mob?"
"No," said Hewitt, "it isn't."
We didn't get back till the next day, staying for the night, despite an inconvenient want of requisites, at the Hall. There were, in fact, no late trains. We told Sir Valentine the story of the Irishman, much to his amusement.
"Leamy's tale sounded unlikely, of course," Hewitt said, "but it was noticeable that every one of his misfortunes pointed in the same direction—that certain persons were tremendously anxious to get at something they supposed he had. When he spoke of his adventure with the bag, I at once remembered Wilks's arrest and subsequent release. It was a curious coincidence, to say the least, that this should happen at the very station to which the proceeds of this robbery must come, if they came to London at all, and on the day following the robbery itself. Kedderby is one of the few stations on this line where no trains would stop after the time of the robbery, so that the thief would
