osite side of the street
came across and volunteered information.

He had seen another car drive up and a gentleman had alighted. He had
opened the door with a key and gone in. There was nothing suspicious
about him. He was "quite a gentleman, and was in evening-dress." The
constable thought it was one of the partners of Rosenblaum in convivial
and resplendent garb. He had been in the house ten minutes then had come
out again, locking the door behind him, and had driven off just before
Beale's car had arrived.

It was not until half an hour later that an agitated little man brought
by the police from Highgate admitted the two men.

There was no need to make a long search. The moment the light was
switched on in the shop Beale made his discovery. On the broad counter
lay a sheet of paper and a little heap of silver coins. He swept the
money aside and read:

"For the redemption of one silver hunter, 10s. 6d."

It was signed in the characteristic handwriting that Beale knew so well
"Van Heerden, M.D."

The two men looked at one another.

"What do you make of that?" asked McNorton.

Beale carried the paper to the light and examined it, and McNorton went
on:

"He's a pretty cool fellow. I suppose he had the money and the message
all ready for our benefit."

Beale shook his head.

"On the contrary," he said, "this was done on the spur of the moment. A
piece of bravado which occurred to him when he had the watch. Look at
this paper. You can imagine him searching his pocket for a piece of
waste paper and taking the first that came to his hand. It is written in
ink with the pawnbroker's own pen. The inkwell is open," he lifted up
the pen, "the nib is still wet," he said.

McNorton took the paper from his hands.

It was a bill from a corn-chandler's at Horsham, the type of bill that
was sent in days of war economy which folded over and constituted its
own envelope. It was addressed to "J. B. Harden, Esq." ("That was the
_alias_ he used when he took the wine vaults at Paddington," explained
McNorton) and had been posted about a week before. Attached to the
bottom of the account, which was for L3 10s., was a little slip calling
attention to the fact that "this account had probably been overlooked."

Beale's finger traced the item for which the bill was rendered, and
McNorton uttered an exclamation of surprise.

"Curious, isn't it?" said Beale, as he folded the paper and put it away
in his pocket, "how these very