ss. And now, in a perfunctory way, his landlady pulled
out the little drawer, but she did not touch what was lying there;
she only glanced at the heap of sovereigns and a few bits of silver.
The lodger had taken just enough money with him to buy the clothes
he required. He had consulted her as to how much they would cost,
making no secret of why he was going out, and the fact had vaguely
comforted Mrs. Bunting.

Now she lifted the toilet-cover, and even rolled up the carpet a
little way, but no, there was nothing there, not so much as a scrap
of paper. And at last, when more or less giving up the search, as
she came and went between the two rooms, leaving the connecting door
wide open, her mind became full of uneasy speculation and wonder as
to the lodger's past life.

Odd Mr. Sleuth must surely always have been, but odd in a sensible
sort of way, having on the whole the same moral ideals of conduct
as have other people of his class. He was queer about the drink--one
might say almost crazy on the subject--but there, as to that, he
wasn't the only one! She, Ellen Bunting, had once lived with a
lady who was just like that, who was quite crazed, that is, on the
question of drink and drunkards--She looked round the neat
drawing-room with vague dissatisfaction. There was only one place
where anything could be kept concealed--that place was the
substantial if small mahogany chiffonnier. And then an idea
suddenly came to Mrs. Bunting, one she had never thought of before.

After listening intently for a moment, lest something should suddenly
bring Mr. Sleuth home earlier than she expected, she went to the
corner where the chiffonnier stood, and, exerting the whole of her
not very great physical strength, she tipped forward the heavy piece
of furniture.

As she did so, she heard a queer rumbling sound,--something rolling
about on the second shelf, something which had not been there before
Mr. Sleuth's arrival. Slowly, laboriously, she tipped the chiffonnier
backwards and forwards--once, twice, thrice--satisfied, yet strangely
troubled in her mind, for she now felt sure that the bag of which the
disappearance had so surprised her was there, safely locked away by
its owner.

Suddenly a very uncomfortable thought came to Mrs. Bunting's mind.
She hoped Mr. Sleuth would not notice that his bag had shifted inside
the cupboard. A moment later, with sharp dismay, Mr. Sleuth's
landlady realised that the fact that she had moved the