other world which comes to us sometimes amid surroundings violently
different from our usual surroundings. The most ordinary noises--of
men calling, of a chain running through a slot, of a distant
siren--translated themselves to his ears into terrible and haunting
sounds, full of portentous significance. He looked over the side of the
boat into the brown water, and asked himself what frightful secrets
lay hidden in its depth. Then he put his hand into his hip-pocket
and touched the stock of his Colt revolver--that familiar substance
comforted him.

The oarsmen had instructions to drop slowly down to the Pool, as
the wide reach below the Tower is called. These two men had not been
previously informed of the precise object of the expedition, but now
that they were safely afloat Hazell judged it expedient to give them
some notion of it. 'We expect to come across a rather suspicious steam
launch,' he said. 'My friend here is very anxious to get a sight of her,
and until he has seen her nothing definite can be done.'

'What sort of a craft is she, sir?' asked the stroke oar, a fat-faced
man who seemed absolutely incapable of any serious exertion.

'I don't know,' Racksole replied; 'but as near as I can judge, she's
about sixty feet in length, and painted black. I fancy I shall recognize
her when I see her.'

'Not much to go by, that,' exclaimed the other man curtly. But he said
no more. He, as well as his mate, had received from Theodore Racksole
one English sovereign as a kind of preliminary fee, and an English
sovereign will do a lot towards silencing the natural sarcastic
tendencies and free speech of a Thames waterman.

'There's one thing I noticed,' said Racksole suddenly, 'and I forgot
to tell you of it, Mr Hazell. Her screw seemed to move with a rather
irregular, lame sort of beat.'

Both watermen burst into a laugh.

'Oh,' said the fat rower, 'I know what you're after, sir--it's Jack
Everett's launch, commonly called "Squirm". She's got a four-bladed
propeller, and one blade is broken off short.'

'Ay, that's it, sure enough,' agreed the man in the bows. 'And if it's
her you want, I seed her lying up against Cherry Gardens Pier this very
morning.'

'Let us go to Cherry Gardens Pier by all means, as soon as possible,'

Racksole said, and the boat swung across stream and then began to creep
down by the right bank, feeling its way past wharves, many of which,
even at that hour, were still busy with their cra