ive-barred, grained-and-varnished gates, one at
either end of the little semi-circular drive, and both wide open. So
still was the place that I had a great mind to walk boldly in and learn
something of the premises; in fact, I was on the point of doing so,
when I heard a quick, shuffling step on the pavement behind me. I
turned round and faced the dark scowl and the dirty clenched fists of a
dilapidated tramp.

"You fool!" said he. "You utter idiot!"

"Raffles!"

"That's it," he whispered savagely; "tell all the neighborhood--give me
away at the top of your voice!"

With that he turned his back upon me, and shambled down the road,
shrugging his shoulders and muttering to himself as though I had
refused him alms. A few moments I stood astounded, indignant, at a
loss; then I followed him. His feet trailed, his knees gave, his back
was bowed, his head kept nodding; it was the gait of a man eighty years
of age. Presently he waited for me midway between two lamp-posts. As
I came up he was lighting rank tobacco, in a cutty pipe, with an
evil-smelling match, and the flame showed me the suspicion of a smile.

"You must forgive my heat, Bunny, but it really was very foolish of
you. Here am I trying every dodge--begging at the door one
night--hiding in the shrubs the next--doing every mortal thing but
stand and stare at the house as you went and did. It's a costume piece,
and in you rush in your ordinary clothes. I tell you they're on the
lookout for us night and day. It's the toughest nut I ever tackled!"

"Well," said I, "if you had told me so before I shouldn't have come.
You told me nothing."

He looked hard at me from under the broken brim of a battered billycock.

"You're right," he said at length. "I've been too close. It's become
second nature with me when I've anything on. But here's an end of it,
Bunny, so far as you're concerned. I'm going home now, and I want you
to follow me; but for heaven's sake keep your distance, and don't speak
to me again till I speak to you. There--give me a start." And he was
off again, a decrepit vagabond, with his hands in his pockets, his
elbows squared, and frayed coat-tails swinging raggedly from side to
side.

I followed him to the Finchley Road. There he took an Atlas omnibus,
and I sat some rows behind him on the top, but not far enough to escape
the pest of his vile tobacco. That he could carry his character-sketch
to such a pitch--he who would only smoke