culable harm. How was it distributed?
In little paper bags, like those used by the banks. It sent half the
poor fellows crazy! Just imagine--a broken-down wretch who'd lived on
the verge of starvation for, maybe, years, suddenly has a bag of
sovereigns put into his hand! Good heavens! what madness!"

"Who did the distributing?"

"That's the curious part of it! The bags were distributed by a number of
men wearing the dark overcoats and uniform caps of the Salvation Army!
That's how they managed to get through with the business without
arousing the curiosity of the police. I don't know how many of them
there were, but I should imagine twenty or thirty. They were through
with it and gone before we woke up to what they had done!"

Sheard thanked him for his information, stood a moment, irresolute; and
turned back once more to the _Gleaner_ office.

* * * * *

Thus, then, did a strange personality announce his coming and flood the
British press with adjectives.

The sensation created, on the following day, by the news of the Park
Lane robbery was no greater than that occasioned by the news of the
extraordinary Embankment affair.

"What do we deduce," demanded a talkative and obtrusively clever person
in a late City train, "from the circumstance that all thirty of the Park
Lane brigands were alike?"

"Obviously," replied a quiet voice, "that it was a 'make-up.' Thirty
identical wigs, thirty identical moustaches, and the same grease-paint!"

A singularly handsome man was the speaker. He was dark, masterful, and
had notably piercing eyes. The clever person became silent.

"Being all made up as a very common type of man-about-town," continued
this striking-looking stranger, "they would pass unnoticed anywhere. If
the police are looking for thirty blonde men of similar appearance they
are childishly wasting their time. They are wasting their time in any
event--as the future will show."

Everyone in the carriage was listening now, and a man in a corner asked:
"Do you think there is any connection between the Park Lane and
Embankment affairs, sir?"

"Think!" smiled the other, rising as the train slowed into Ludgate Hill.
"You evidently have not seen this."

He handed his questioner an early edition of an evening paper, and with
a terse "Good morning," left the carriage.

Glaringly displayed on the front page was the following:

WHO IS HE?

"We received early this morning