life."

She shook her head sombrely. "Ah, you're right there, sir. An' curious
enough that's the very identical remark my late 'usband was ser fond
o' makin'. I remember 'is sayin' it to me the very night before 'e was
knocked down by a bus. Knocked down in Westminister 'e was, and runned
over the body by both 'ind wheels. 'E never got over it--not as you
might say reely got over it. If ever 'e ate cheese after that it
always give 'im a pain in 'is stomick."

An apropos remark about "come wheel come woe" flashed into my mind,
but before I could frame it in properly sympathetic language, a taxi
drew up at the door with Gertie 'Uggins installed in state alongside
the driver.

Both she and Mrs. Oldbury stood on the step, and waved farewell to me
as I drove down the street. I was quite sorry to leave them. I felt
that they both liked me in their respective ways, and my present list
of amiably disposed acquaintances was so small that I objected to
curtailing it by the most humble member.

All the way to Tilbury I occupied myself with the hackneyed but
engrossing pursuit of pondering over my affairs. Apart from my own
private interest in the matter, which after all was a fairly poignant
one, the mysterious adventure in which I was involved filled me with
a profound curiosity. Latimer's dramatic re-entry on to the scene had
thrown an even more sinister complexion over the whole business than
it boasted before, and, like a man struggling with a jig-saw problem,
I tried vainly to fit together the various pieces into some sort of
possible solution.

I was still engaged in this interesting occupation when the train ran
into Tilbury station. Without waiting for a porter I collected my
various belongings, and stepped out on to the platform.

McMurtrie had told me in his letter that he would arrange for some
one to meet me; and looking round I caught sight of a burly red-faced
gentleman in a tight jacket and a battered straw hat, sullenly eyeing
the various passengers who had alighted. I walked straight up to him.

"Are you waiting for me--Mr. James Nicholson?" I asked.

He looked me up and down in a kind of familiar fashion that distinctly
failed to appeal to me.

"That's right," he said. Then as a sort of afterthought he added, "I
gotter trap outside."

"Have you?" I said. "I've got a couple of bags inside, so you'd better
come and catch hold of one of them."

His unpleasantly red face grew even redder, and for a mome