it was a fine calm day, and their luggage was all packed
up and labelled, did Mr Medlock and his friend Mr Shanklin succeed in
making their promised trip across the Channel. A deputation of police
awaited them on the Victoria platform, and completely disconcerted their
arrangements by taking them in a cab to the nearest police-station on a
charge of fraud and conspiracy.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

SAMUEL SHUCKLEFORD FINDS VIRTUE ITS OWN REWARD.

It was just as well for Horace's peace of mind, during his time of
anxious watching, that two short paragraphs in the morning papers of the
following day escaped his observation.

"At--police-court yesterday, two men named Medlock and Shanklin were
brought before the magistrate on various charges of fraud connected with
sham companies in different parts of the country. After some formal
evidence they were remanded for a week, bail being refused."

"A youth named Reginald was yesterday charged at Liverpool with
conspiracy to defraud by means of fictitious circulars addressed in the
name of a trading company. He was remanded for three days without bail,
pending inquiries."

It so happened that it fell to Booms's lot to cut the latter paragraph
out. And as he was barely aware of the existence of Cruden's brother,
and in no case would have recognised him by his assumed name, the news,
even if he read it, could have conveyed no intelligence to his mind.

Horace certainly did not read it. Even when he had nothing better to
do, he always regarded newspapers as a discipline not to be meddled with
out of office hours. And just now, with his mother lying in a critical
condition, and with no news day after day of Reginald, he had more
serious food for reflection than the idle gossip of a newspaper.

The only other person in London whom the news could have interested was
Samuel Shuckleford. But as he was that morning riding blithely in the
train to Liverpool, reading the _Law Times_, and flattering himself he
would soon make the public "sit up" to a recognition of his astuteness,
he saw nothing of them.

He found himself on the Liverpool platform just where, scarcely three
months ago, Reginald had found himself that dreary afternoon of his
arrival. But, unlike Reginald, it cost the young ornament of the law
not a moment's hesitation as to whether he should take a cab or not to
his destination. If only the cabman knew whom he had the honour to
carry, how he would touch up his h