now this thief has been and--'

"The tramp shrugged his shoulders and suddenly, without a word, he
quietly began taking off his coat and waistcoat. These he handed across
to the constable. Eagerly the man in the shirt fell on them, and turned
the ragged pockets inside out. From one of the windows a hilarious voice
made some facetious remark, as the tramp with equal solemnity began
divesting himself of his nether garments.

"'Now then, stop that nonsense,' pronounced D 21 severely, 'what were
you doing here this time o' night, anyway?'

"'The streets o' London is free to the public, ain't they?' queried the
tramp.

"'This don't lead nowhere, my man.'

"'Then I've lost my way, that's all,' growled the man surlily, 'and
p'raps you'll let me get along now.'

"By this time a couple of constables had appeared upon the scene. D 21
had no intention of losing sight of his friend the tramp, and the man in
the shirt had again made a dash for the latter's collar at the bare idea
that he should be allowed to 'get along.'

"I think D 21 was alive to the humour of the situation. He suggested
that Robertson (the man in the night-shirt) should go in and get some
clothes on, whilst he himself would wait for the inspector and the
detective, whom D 15 would send round from the station immediately.

"Poor Robertson's teeth were chattering with cold. He had a violent fit
of sneezing as D 21 hurried him into the house. The latter, with another
constable, remained to watch the burglared premises both back and
front, and D 15 took the wretched tramp to the station with a view to
sending an inspector and a detective round immediately.

"When the two latter gentlemen arrived at No. 22, Phillimore Terrace,
they found poor old Robertson in bed, shivering, and still quite blue.
He had got himself a hot drink, but his eyes were streaming and his
voice was terribly husky. D 21 had stationed himself in the dining-room,
where Robertson had pointed the desk out to him, with its broken lock
and scattered contents.

"Robertson, between his sneezes, gave what account he could of the
events which happened immediately before the robbery.

"His master, Mr. Ferdinand Knopf, he said, was a diamond merchant, and a
bachelor. He himself had been in Mr. Knopf's employ over fifteen years,
and was his only indoor servant. A charwoman came every day to do the
housework.

"Last night Mr. Knopf dined at the house of Mr. Shipman, at No. 26,
lower down. Mr.