ort.

"There is nothing to say," said Guest sharply.

"Queer for this place to have all been screwed up--both, the door and
the bath."

"Oh, no; I see why," said Guest quickly. "Bad smells, perhaps, from the
waste pipe--sewer gas."

"Don't smell like bad gas," said Jem, sniffing about and ending by
dipping a finger in the bath, and holding it to his nose, after which he
gave a peculiar grunt.

"Well?"

"Sperrits."

"Nonsense, man!" cried Guest. "What! That?"

"That's sperrits, sure enough, sir," said the man, dipping his finger in
the bath again. "Open that there lantern, pardner."

The sergeant obeyed, and his companion thrust in his finger, for it to
be enveloped directly with a bluish flame.

"Mind what you're doing," said the sergeant hastily, "or we shall have
the whole place a-fire."

"All right, pardner. Sperrits it is, and, I should say, come in them
cans."

He gave one of the great tins a tap with his toe, and it sent forth a
dull, metallic sound.

"Very likely," said Guest. "Our friend is a naturalist, and uses
spirits to preserve things in."

"Look ye here," said the workman oracularly, and he worked one hand
about as he spoke. "I don't purfess to know no more than what's my
trade, which is locks and odd jobs o' that sort. My pardner here'll
tell you, gents, that I'll face anything from a tup'ny padlock up to a
strong room or a patent safe; but I've got a thought here as may be a
bright 'un, or only a bit of a man's nat'ral fog. You want to find this
gent, don't you?"

"Yes," said Guest; and the tone of that "yes" suggested plainly enough,
"no."

"What have you got in that wooden head of yours now, Jem?" growled the
sergeant.

"Wait a minute, my lad, and you'll hear."

"There's no occasion for us to stop here," said Guest hurriedly.

"On'y a minute, sir, and then I'll screw down the lid. What I wanted to
say, gents, is: haven't we found the party, after all?"

"What!" cried Guest. "Where?"

"Here, sir. I don't understand sperrits--beer's my line; but what I say
is: mayn't the gent be in there, after all, in slooshun--melted away in
the sperrits, like a lump o' sugar in a man's tea?"

"No, he mayn't," said the sergeant, closing the lid with a bang. "Don't
you take no notice of him, gentlemen; he's handled screws till he's a
reg'lar screw himself."

"But what I say is--"

"Hold your row, and don't make a fool of yourself, mate. Get your work
done, and then go hom