Town Hall Tavern for
a good feed and a copious drink. Mr. Francis Howard noted that he seemed
to eye every passer-by with suspicion, but he seemed to enjoy his
dinner, and sat some time over his bottle of wine.

"It was close upon four o'clock when he left the tavern, and then began
for the indefatigable Mr. Howard one of the most wearisome and
uninteresting chases, through the mazes of the London streets, he ever
remembers to have made. Up Notting Hill, down the slums of Notting
Dale, along the High Street, beyond Hammersmith, and through Shepherd's
Bush did that anonymous tramp lead the unfortunate detective, never
hurrying himself, stopping every now and then at a public-house to get a
drink, whither Mr. Howard did not always care to follow him.

"In spite of his fatigue, Mr. Francis Howard's hopes rose with every
half-hour of this weary tramp. The man was obviously striving to kill
time; he seemed to feel no weariness, but walked on and on, perhaps
suspecting that he was being followed.

"At last, with a beating heart, though half perished with cold, and with
terribly sore feet, the detective began to realize that the tramp was
gradually working his way back towards Kensington. It was then close
upon eleven o'clock at night; once or twice the man had walked up and
down the High Street, from St. Paul's School to Derry and Toms' shops
and back again, he had looked down one or two of the side streets
and--at last--he turned into Phillimore Terrace. He seemed in no hurry,
he oven stopped once in the middle of the road, trying to light a pipe,
which, as there was a high east wind, took him some considerable time.
Then he leisurely sauntered down the street, and turned into Adam and
Eve Mews, with Mr. Francis Howard now close at his heels.

"Acting upon the detective's instructions, there were several men in
plain clothes ready to his call in the immediate neighbourhood. Two
stood within the shadow of the steps of the Congregational Church at the
corner of the mews, others were stationed well within a soft call.

"Hardly, therefore, had the hare turned into the _cul-de-sac_ at the
back of Phillimore Terrace than, at a slight sound from Mr. Francis
Howard, every egress was barred to him, and he was caught like a rat in
a trap.

"As soon as the tramp had advanced some thirty yards or so (the whole
length of this part of the mews is about one hundred yards) and was lost
in the shadow, Mr. Francis Howard directed four