"I see," said Spargo. "A good explanation. And when you had beaten the
hearthrugs--what then?"

Mollison smiled his weak smile again.

"Well, sir, I looked at that there stick and I see it was something
uncommon," he answered. "And I thinks--'Well, this Mr. Anderson, he's
got a bundle of sticks and walking canes up there--hell never miss this
old thing,' I thinks. And so I left it in a corner when I'd done
beating the rugs, and when I went away with my things I took it with
me."

"You took it with you?" said Spargo. "Just so. To keep as a curiosity,
I suppose?"

Mollison's weak smile turned to one of cunning. He was obviously losing
his nervousness; the sound of his own voice and the reception of his
news was imparting confidence to him.

"Not half!" he answered. "You see, guv'nor, there was an old cove as I
knew in the Temple there as is, or was, 'cause I ain't been there
since, a collector of antikities, like, and I'd sold him a queer old
thing, time and again. And, of course, I had him in my eye when I took
the stick away--see?"

"I see. And you took the stick to him?"

"I took it there and then," replied Mollison. "Pitched him a tale, I
did, about it having been brought from foreign parts by Uncle
Simon--which I never had no Uncle Simon. Made out it was a rare
curiosity--which it might ha' been one, for all I know."

"Exactly. And the old cove took a fancy to it, eh?"

"Bought it there and then," answered Mollison, with something very like
a wink.

"Ah! Bought it there and then. And how much did he give you for it?"
asked Spargo. "Something handsome, I hope?"

"Couple o' quid," replied Mollison. "Me not wishing to part with a
family heirloom for less."

"Just so. And do you happen to be able to tell me the old cove's name
and his address, Mollison?" asked Spargo.

"I do, sir. Which they've painted on his entry--the fifth or sixth as
you go down Middle Temple Lane," answered Mollison. "Mr. Nicholas
Cardlestone, first floor up the staircase."

Spargo rose from his seat without as much as a look at Breton.

"Come this way, Mollison," he said. "We'll go and see about your little
reward. Excuse me, Breton."

Breton kicked his heels in solitude for half an hour. Then Spargo came
back.

"There--that's one matter settled, Breton," he said. "Now for the next.
The Home Secretary's made the order for the opening of the grave at
Market Milcaster. I'm going down there at once, and I suppose you're
comin