red
to take Wimp diluted. "Mortlake's upstairs," he said. "Will you come up
and see him?"

Wimp had intended a duologue, but he made no objection, so he, too,
stumbled through the nine brats to Mrs. Crowl's bedroom. It was a queer
quartette. Wimp had hardly expected to find anybody at the house on
Boxing Day, but he did not care to waste a day. Was not Grodman, too, on
the track? How lucky it was that Denzil had made the first overtures, so
that he could approach him without exciting suspicion.

Mortlake scowled when he saw the detective. He objected to the
police--on principle. But Crowl had no idea who the visitor was, even
when told his name. He was rather pleased to meet one of Denzil's
high-class friends, and welcomed him warmly. Probably he was some famous
editor, which would account for his name stirring vague recollections.
He summoned the eldest brat and sent him for beer (people would have
their Fads), and not without trepidation called down to "Mother" for
glasses. "Mother" observed at night (in the same apartment) that the
beer money might have paid the week's school fees for half the family.

"We were just talking of poor Mr. Constant's portrait, Mr. Wimp," said
the unconscious Crowl; "they're going to unveil it, Mortlake tells me,
on the twenty-first of next month at the Bow Break o' Day Club."

"Ah," said Wimp, elated at being spared the trouble of maneuvering the
conversation; "mysterious affair that, Mr. Crowl."

"No; it's the right thing," said Peter. "There ought to be some memorial
of the man in the district where he worked and where he died, poor
chap." The cobbler brushed away a tear.

"Yes, it's only right," echoed Mortlake a whit eagerly. "He was a noble
fellow, a true philanthropist. The only thoroughly unselfish worker I've
ever met."

"He was that," said Peter; "and it's a rare pattern is unselfishness.
Poor fellow, poor fellow. He preached the Useful, too. I've never met
his like. Ah, I wish there was a Heaven for him to go to!" He blew his
nose violently with a red pocket-handkerchief.

"Well, he's there, if there _is_," said Tom.

"I hope he is," added Wimp fervently; "but I shouldn't like to go there
the way he did."

"You were the last person to see him, Tom, weren't you?" said Denzil.

"Oh, no," answered Tom quickly. "You remember he went out after me; at
least, so Mrs. Drabdump said at the inquest."

"That last conversation he had with you, Tom," said Denzil. "He didn't
s