he tide upon the piles of the wharf was audible, for
the night was now far advanced.

I opened the door of the cab and dragged out "Le Balafre." Right and
left I peered, truly like a stage villain, and then hauled my
unpleasant burden along the irregularly paved path and on to the
little wharf. Out in mid-stream a Thames Police patrol was passing,
and I stood for a moment until the creak of the oars grew dim.

Then: there was a dull splash far below ... and silence again.

Gaston Max had been consigned to a watery grave!

Returning again to the garage, I wondered very much who he had been,
this one, "Le Balafre." Could it be that he was "The Scorpion"? I
could not tell, but I had hopes very shortly of finding out. I had
settled up my affairs with my landlady and had removed from my
apartments all papers and other effects. In the garage I had placed
a good suit of clothes and other necessities, and by telephone I had
secured a room at a West-End hotel.

The cab returned to the stable, I locked the door, and by the light
of one of the lamps, shaved off my beard and moustache. My uniform
and cap I hung up on the hook where I usually left them after working
hours, and changed into the suit which I had placed there in readiness.
I next destroyed all evidences of identity and left the place in a
neat condition. I extinguished the lamp, went out and locked the door
behind me, and carrying a travelling-grip and a cane I set off for my
new hotel.

Charles Malet had disappeared!

CHAPTER IV

I MEET AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE

On the corner opposite Dr. Stuart's establishment stood a house which
was "to be let or sold." From the estate-agent whose name appeared
upon the notice-board I obtained the keys--and had a duplicate made of
that which opened the front door. It was a simple matter, and the
locksmith returned both keys to me within an hour. I informed the
agent that the house would not suit me.

Nevertheless, having bolted the door, in order that prospective
purchasers might not surprise me, I "camped out" in an upper room all
day, watching from behind the screen of trees all who came to the house
of Dr. Stuart. Dusk found me still at my post, armed with a pair of
good binoculars. Every patient who presented himself I scrutinized
carefully, and finding as the darkness grew that it became increasingly
difficult to discern the features of visitors, I descended to the front
garden and resumed my watch from the lowe