man would bring the case to a successful conclusion
unaided by Scotland Yard, thus casting professional discredit upon
Dunbar and himself.

His presence at that spot was largely due to accident. He had chanced to
be passing the Club when Sir Brian and M. Max had come out, and, fearful
that the presence of the tall stranger portended some new move on the
Frenchman's part, Sowerby had followed, hoping to glean something by
persistency when clues were unobtainable by other means. He had had no
time to make inquiries of the porter of the Club respecting the identity
of M. Max's companion, and thus, as has appeared, he did not obtain the
desired information until his arrival in Piccadilly.

Turning over these matters in his mind, Sowerby stood watching the block
of buildings across the road. He saw a light spring into being in a room
overlooking Piccadilly, a room boasting a handsome balcony. This took
place some two minutes after the departure of the lift bearing Sir Brian
and his guest upward; so that Sowerby permitted himself to conclude that
the room with the balcony belonged to Sir Brian Malpas.

He watched the lighted window aimlessly and speculated upon the nature
of the conversation then taking place up there above him. Had he
possessed the attributes of a sparrow, he thought, he might have flown
up to that balcony and have "got level" with this infernally clever
Frenchman who was almost certainly going to pull off the case under the
very nose of Scotland Yard.

In short, his reflections were becoming somewhat bitter; and persuaded
that he had nothing to gain by remaining there any longer he was about
to walk off, when his really remarkable persistency received a trivial
reward.

One of the windows communicating with the balcony was suddenly thrown
open, so that Sowerby had a distant view of the corner of a picture, of
the extreme top of a book-case, and of a patch of white ceiling in the
room above; furthermore he had a clear sight of the man who had opened
the window, and who now turned and reentered the room. The man was Sir
Brian Malpas.

Heedless of the roaring traffic stream, upon the brink of which he
stood, heedless of all who passed him by, Sowerby gazed aloft, seeking
to project himself, as it were, into that lighted room. Not being an
accomplished clairvoyant, he remained in all his component parts upon
the pavement of Piccadilly; but ours is the privilege to succeed where
Sowerby failed, and the co