ssault;
and it's worth a hundred pounds to me, if it's worth a farthing."

"I wish you joy of your luck," says I.

"Thank you," says he. "When may I pay you the same compliment on finding
the thief?"

"Whenever you like," says I, "for the thief is found."

"Just what I expected," says he. "I've done all the work; and now you
cut in, and claim all the credit.--Mr. Jay, of course?"

"No," says I.

"Who is it, then?" says he.

"Ask Mrs. Yatman," says I. "She'll tell you."

"All right! I'd much rather hear it from her than from you," says
he,--and goes into the house in a mighty hurry.

What do you think of that, Inspector Theakstone? Would you like to stand
in Mr. Sharpin's shoes? I shouldn't, I can promise you!

FROM CHIEF INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE TO MR. MATTHEW SHARPIN.

July 12th.

Sir,

Sergeant Bulmer has already told you to consider yourself suspended
until further notice. I have now authority to add, that your services as
a member of the Detective Police are positively declined. You will please
to take this letter as notifying officially your dismissal from the
force.

I may inform you, privately, that your rejection is not intended to cast
any reflections on your character. It merely implies that you are not
quite sharp enough for our purpose. If we are to have a new recruit
among us, we should infinitely prefer Mrs. Yatman.

Your obedient servant,

Francis Theakstone.

* * * * *

Note on the preceding correspondence--The editor is, unfortunately, not
in a position to add any explanations of importance to the last of the
published letters of Chief Inspector Theakstone. It has been discovered
that Mr. Matthew Sharpin left the house in Rutherford Street a quarter
of an hour after his interview outside of it with Sergeant Bulmer,--his
manner expressing the liveliest emotions of terror and astonishment, and
his left cheek displaying a bright patch of red, which looked as if it
might have been the result of what is popularly termed a smart box on
the ear. He was also heard, by the shopman at Rutherford Street, to use
a very shocking expression in reference to Mrs. Yatman; and was seen to
clinch his fist vindictively, as he ran round the corner of the street.
Nothing more has been heard of him; and it is conjectured that he has
left London with the intention of offering his valuable services to the
provincial police.

On the interesting domestic subject of Mr. and Mr