d been in the water for days.

Almost mechanically he took out his handkerchief and wiped his hands.
The light was bright enough to show him that his own name was in the
corner.

"It might be me, it might be me," he repeated again and again.

There was a sort of fascination in the thought.

"If twenty-four hours ago, or forty-eight hours ago, I had thrown myself
into the river, and ever since had been rolled about by the muddy
waters, I should be like that, just like that. Only he is nameless;
there are no means of identifying him. Well, what's the odds?"

He started, as though some one had struck him.

"Why shouldn't it be?"

In a moment he saw the possibilities of the thought.

"Yes, why shouldn't it? To-morrow morning some one will come down these
steps, and then the police will take the poor wretch to a mortuary,
after which there will be the usual fiasco of an inquest. As there are
no marks by which to identify him, hosts of stupid questions will be
asked. After that--he will be forgotten, unless some one comes to claim
him. But why shouldn't I become----?"

His eyes flashed with a new light. He was no longer cold and calm. He
was eager, excited.

He listened eagerly. All was silent, save for a rumbling noise which he
heard some distance away. He felt his pockets carefully. Yes, here was
an old letter; it would do perfectly. He soaked it in the muddy waters
of the river and crumpled it. It had the appearance of being in the
river for days. He put the letter in the dead man's pocket.

Again he wiped his hands, and listened. Then he took the handkerchief he
had used and dipped it in the river. It became saturated with the waters
of the Thames. Yes, that would strengthen the chain of identity. He put
the handkerchief in another pocket of the dead man's clothes. Was there
anything else he needed to do? No. He had examined the poor wretch, and
there was nothing on him by which it could be known who he was. Now, the
mystery would be made clear. A letter addressed to Radford Leicester,
Esq., was in his pocket; a handkerchief also bearing his name would be
found on his person. He gave the body a parting glance and came up the
steps.

"Poor beggar, I wonder who he is, after all?" he said. "Anyhow, if there
is any secret to learn, the thing that was he has learned it. He had the
pluck, I hadn't; but, after all, it has given me an idea."

By the time he reached the top step he was to all outward appearances
ca