packet which he had taken out of his jacket pocket he
drew a fresh piece, redolent of mint. This he put into his mouth, and
returned the packet to its resting-place. A slim, trim figure, he stood
looking round him reflectively.

"Now," he muttered, "what about it?"

CHAPTER VIII. KERRY CONSULTS THE ORACLE

The clock of Brixton Town Hall was striking the hour of 1 a.m. as Chief
Inspector Kerry inserted his key in the lock of the door of his house in
Spenser Road.

A light was burning in the hallway, and from the little dining-room on
the left the reflection of a cheerful fire danced upon the white paint
of the half-open door. Kerry deposited his hat, cane, and overall upon
the rack, and moving very quietly entered the room and turned on
the light. A modestly furnished and scrupulously neat apartment was
revealed. On the sheepskin rug before the fire a Manx cat was dozing
beside a pair of carpet slippers. On the table some kind of cold repast
was laid, the viands concealed under china covers. At a large bottle of
Guinness's Extra Stout Kerry looked with particular appreciation.

He heaved a long sigh of contentment, and opened the bottle of stout.
Having poured out a glass of the black and foaming liquid and satisfied
an evidently urgent thirst, he explored beneath the covers, and
presently was seated before a spread of ham and tongue, tomatoes, and
bread and butter.

A door opened somewhere upstairs, and:

"Is that yoursel', Dan?" inquired a deep but musical female voice.

"Sure it is," replied Kerry; and no one who had heard the high official
tones of the imperious Chief Inspector would have supposed that they
could be so softened and modulated. "You should have been asleep hours
ago, Mary."

"Have ye to go out again?"

"I have, bad luck; but don't trouble to come down. I've all I want and
more."

"If 'tis a new case I'll come down."

"It's the devil's own case; but you'll get your death of cold."

Sounds of movement in the room above followed, and presently footsteps
on the stairs. Mrs. Kerry, enveloped in a woollen dressing-gown, which
obviously belonged to the Inspector, came into the room. Upon her Kerry
directed a look from which all fierceness had been effaced, and which
expressed only an undying admiration. And, indeed, Mary Kerry was in
many respects a remarkable character. Half an inch taller than Kerry,
she fully merited the compliment designed by that trite apothegm, "a
fine woman." Large