orking with me--he had a beautiful tenor voice, you will remember.
We were after a couple of confidence men and had a man we were towing
about to identify them. Well, we got 'em down to a saloon bar near the
Oxford Street end, but I daren't go in because they knew me. It was a
bitter cold night, with a cold wind and snow and sleet. So I stayed on
the opposite side of the road and induced Bill to go over and sing 'I am
but a Poor Blind Boy,' in the hope that our birds would call him in and
give him a drink. He hadn't been at it five minutes before a fiery,
red-headed little potman had knocked him head over heels in the gutter
and told him to go away. Bill could have broken the chap in two with his
little finger, but he daren't do anything. He came over to me and I sent
him back again. This time he did get invited inside. And there he stayed
for a full hour, while the witness and I stood shivering and wet and
miserable in the snow. We could hear him laughing and singing with the
best of 'em. They wouldn't let him come away. It was not until I took
all risks and marched in with the witness and arrested them that they
tumbled to the fact that he wasn't a real street singer." He glanced at
his watch. "You'd better go and have a rest, Green. Meet me here at
half-past twelve. We'll take a taxi to Aldgate and walk up from there.
And, by the way, here's a pistol. I needn't tell you not to use it
unless you've got to."

CHAPTER XVI

A bitter wind was sweeping the Commercial Road, Whitechapel, as the two
detectives, each well muffled up, descended from their cab and walked
briskly eastwards. Save for a slouching wayfarer or two, shambling
unsteadily along, and little groups gathered about the all-night
coffee-stalls, the roads were deserted. Neither man had attempted any
disguise. It was not necessary now.

As they turned into Grave Street they automatically walked in the centre
of the roadway. There are some places where it is not healthy to walk at
night on shadowed pavements. They moved without haste and without
loitering, as men who know exactly what they have to do. From one of the
darkened houses a woman's shrill scream issued full of rage and terror.
It was followed by a man's loud, angry tones, the thud of blows,
shrieks, curses, and brutal laughter. Then the silence dropped over
everything again. The two men had apparently paid no heed. Even had they
been inclined to play the part of knights-errant in what was n