ay I have never run a mile since. But,
remembering that night, I have sometimes thought a fellow can never
possibly know how quickly he can get over the distance till some day he
has to run it with a policeman behind him.

When I pulled up and looked round me, my pursuers, if ever I had had
any, had disappeared. There was the steady tread of a policeman on the
opposite side of the road, but he, I knew, was not after me. And there
was the distant rumble of a cab, but that was ahead of me and not behind
me. I had escaped after all! In my thankfulness I renewed with all
fervour and sincerity my resolve to avoid all such foolish escapades for
the future, and to devote myself to more profitable and less
discreditable occupations.

As it was I dared not yet feel quite sure I was safe. I might have been
seen, my name and address might have been discovered, and the policeman
might be lying in wait for me yet, somewhere.

I slunk home that night down the darkest streets and along the shadiest
sides of them, like a burglar. I trembled whenever I saw a policeman or
heard a footfall on the road.

But my fears did not come to pass. I regained the City safely, and was
soon on the familiar track leading to Beadle Square.

As I crossed the top of Style Street the place seemed as deserted as the
grave. But my heart gave a leap to my mouth as suddenly I heard a voice
at my side and a bound, as of some one springing upon me from a place of
hiding.

It was only Billy, who had been curled up on a doorstep, but whose cat-
like vigilance had discovered me even in this light and at this hour.

"Well, you are a-doin' it neat, you are," said he, grinning profusely;
"where 'ave you been to, gov'nor?"

"What's that to do with you?" demanded I, to whom by this time the small
ragamuffin's impudence had ceased to be astonishing.

"On'y 'cos t'other bloke he was 'ere four hour ago, and I ain't see'd
you go by. I say, you're a-doin' it, you are."

"Has my fr-- has Smith been here this evening?" I asked.

"He are so; and I give 'im a shine to-rights, I did. But, bless you, he
was glum about the mazard, he was."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Ga on! As if you didn't know. `Wot's up, governor?' says I. `Things
is a-going wrong with me, Billy,' says he--so he does. `T'other bloke
been givin' you any jaw?' says I, meaning you, says I. `Never mind,
Billy,' says he--`you give me a good shine,' says he, `and I won't mind
the