He ranged his eye over the
closely-packed spectators in the gallery, and shook his head with
manifest disapproval. It seemed to him that the worst criminals in London
had managed to elude the vigilance of the sergeant outside in order to
see the trial of their notorious colleague, Fred Birchill. He pointed out
their presence to Rolfe, who was seated alongside him.

"There's that scoundrel Bob Rogers, who slipped through our hands over
the Ealing case, and his pal, Breaker Jim, who's just done seven years,
looking down and grinning at us," he angrily whispered. "I'll give them
something to grin about before they're much older. You'd think Breaker
would have had enough of the Old Bailey to last him a lifetime. And look
at that row alongside of them--there's Morris, Hart, Harry the Hooker,
and that chap Willis who murdered the pawnbroker in Commercial Road last
year, only we could never sheet it home to him. And two rows behind them
is old Charlie, the Covent Garden 'drop,' with Holder Jack and Kemp,
Birchill's mate. Why, they're everywhere. The inquest was nothing to
this, Rolfe."

"Kemp must be thanking his lucky stars he wasn't in that Riversbrook job
with Fred Birchill," said Rolfe, "for they usually work together. And
there's Crewe, up in the gallery."

"Where?" exclaimed Inspector Chippenfield, with an indignant start.

"Up there behind that pillar there--no, the next one. See, he's looking
down at you."

Crewe caught the inspector's eye, and nodded and smiled in a friendly
fashion, but Inspector Chippenfield returned the salutation with a
haughty glare.

"The impudence of that chap is beyond belief," he said to his
subordinate. "One would have thought he'd have kept away from court after
his wild-goose chase to Scotland and piling up expenses, but not him!
Brazen impudence is the stock-in-trade of the private detective. If
Scotland Yard had a little more of the impudence of the private
detective, Rolfe, we should be better appreciated."

"I suppose he's come in the hopes of seeing the jury acquit Birchill,"
said Rolfe.

"No doubt," replied Inspector Chippenfield. "But he's come to the wrong
shop. A good jury should convict without leaving the box if the case is
properly put before them by the prosecution. Crewe would like to triumph
over us, but it is our turn to win."

But Inspector Chippenfield was wrong in thinking that Crewe's presence
in court was due to a desire for the humiliation of his rivals. Cr