which Peter
Ruff felt that the man might not brazen out. His present mode of life
seemed--on the surface, at any rate--to be beyond reproach. There was
only one association which was distinctly questionable, and it was in
this one direction, therefore, that Peter Ruff concentrated himself. The
case, for some reason, interested him so much that he took a close and
personal interest in it, and he was rewarded one day by discovering this
enemy of Sir Richard's sitting, toward five o'clock in the afternoon,
in a cafe in Regent Street, engrossed in conversation with a person
whom Peter Ruff knew to be a very black sheep indeed--a man who had been
tried for murder, and concerning whom there were still many unpleasant
rumors. From behind his paper in a corner of the cafe, Peter Ruff
watched these two men. Teddy Jones--or Major Edward Jones, as it seemed
he was now called--was a person whose appearance no longer suggested the
poverty against which he had been struggling most of his life. He was
well dressed and tolerably well turned out. His face was a little puffy,
and he had put on flesh during these days of his ease. His eyes, too,
had a somewhat furtive expression, although his general deportment was
one of braggadocio. Peter Ruff, quick always in his likes or dislikes,
found the man repulsive from the start. He felt that he would have a
genuine pleasure, apart from the matter of the five thousand pounds, in
accelerating Major Jones's departure from a world which he certainly did
not adorn.

The two men conducted their conversation in a subdued tone, which made
it quite impossible for Peter Ruff, in his somewhat distant corner, to
overhear a single word of it. It was obvious, however, that they were
not on the best of terms. Major Jones's companion was protesting, and
apparently without success, against some course of action or speech of
his companions. The conversation, on the other hand, never reached a
quarrel, and the two men left the place together apparently on ordinary
terms of friendliness. Peter Ruff at once quitted his seat and crossed
the room toward the spot where they had been sitting. He dived under the
table and picked up a newspaper--it was the only clue left to him as to
the nature of their conversation. More than once, Major Jones who had,
soon after their arrival, sent a waiter for it, had pointed to a certain
paragraph as though to give weight to his statements. Peter Ruff had
noticed the exact position