t for an early ride. He was a
young man about my own height, with an ill-nourished moustache, and he
wore a white overall. On him I staked all my chances.

I went into the darkened smoking-room where the rays of morning light
were beginning to creep through the shutters. There I breakfasted off
a whisky-and-soda and some biscuits from the cupboard. By this time it
was getting on for six o'clock. I put a pipe in My Pocket and filled
my pouch from the tobacco jar on the table by the fireplace.

As I poked into the tobacco my fingers touched something hard, and I
drew out Scudder's little black pocket-book ...

That seemed to me a good omen. I lifted the cloth from the body and
was amazed at the peace and dignity of the dead face. 'Goodbye, old
chap,' I said; 'I am going to do my best for you. Wish me well,
wherever you are.'

Then I hung about in the hall waiting for the milkman. That was the
worst part of the business, for I was fairly choking to get out of
doors. Six-thirty passed, then six-forty, but still he did not come.
The fool had chosen this day of all days to be late.

At one minute after the quarter to seven I heard the rattle of the cans
outside. I opened the front door, and there was my man, singling out
my cans from a bunch he carried and whistling through his teeth. He
jumped a bit at the sight of me.

'Come in here a moment,' I said. 'I want a word with you.' And I led
him into the dining-room.

'I reckon you're a bit of a sportsman,' I said, 'and I want you to do
me a service. Lend me your cap and overall for ten minutes, and here's
a sovereign for you.'

His eyes opened at the sight of the gold, and he grinned broadly.
'Wot's the gyme?'he asked.

'A bet,' I said. 'I haven't time to explain, but to win it I've got to
be a milkman for the next ten minutes. All you've got to do is to stay
here till I come back. You'll be a bit late, but nobody will complain,
and you'll have that quid for yourself.'

'Right-o!' he said cheerily. 'I ain't the man to spoil a bit of sport.
'Ere's the rig, guv'nor.'

I stuck on his flat blue hat and his white overall, picked up the cans,
banged my door, and went whistling downstairs. The porter at the foot
told me to shut my jaw, which sounded as if my make-up was adequate.

At first I thought there was nobody in the street. Then I caught sight
of a policeman a hundred yards down, and a loafer shuffling past on the
other side. Some impulse ma