a gentleman
come down this street, running, about half-an-hour or so ago."

"Was he carrying a rug and a bag?" asked one of the men without
hesitation.

"He was," I replied. "He is the man I want. Which way did he go when he
left here?"

"He took Jim Boulter's cab," said another man, who had until a few
moments before been leaning against the wall. "The Short 'Un was
alookin' after it for 'im, and I heard him call Jimmy myself. He tossed
the Short 'Un a bob, he did, when he got in. Such luck don't seem ever
to come my way."

"Where is the Short 'Un, as you call him?" I inquired, thinking that it
might be to my advantage to interview that gentleman.

"A-drinkin' of his bob in there," the man answered. "Where d'ye think
ye'd be a-seein' 'im? Bearin' 'isself proud like a real torf, and at
closen' time they'll be chuckin' 'im out into the gutter, and then 'is
wife 'll come down, and they 'll fight, an' most like both of 'em 'll
get jugged before they knows where they is, and come before the beak in
the mornin'."

"Look here," I said, "if one of you will go in and induce the gentleman
of whom you speak to come out here and talk to me, I would not mind
treating the four of you to half-a-crown."

The words had scarcely left my lips before a deputation had entered the
house in search of the gentleman in question. When they returned with
him one glance was sufficient to show me that the Short 'Un was in a
decidedly inebriated condition. His friends, however, deeming it
possible that their chance of appreciating my liberality depended upon
his condition being such as he could answer questions with some sort of
intelligence, proceeded to shake and pummel him into something
approaching sobriety. In one of his lucid intervals I inquired whether
he felt equal to telling me in what direction the gentleman who had
given him the shilling had ordered the cabman to drive him. He turned
the question over and over in his mind, and then arrived at the
conclusion that it was "some hotel close to Waterloo."

This was certainly vague, but it encouraged me to persevere.

"Think again," I said; "he must have given you some definite address."

"Now I do remember," said the man, "it seems to me it was Foxwell's
Hotel, Waterloo Road. That's where it was, Foxwell's Hotel. Don't
you know it?

"Foxwell's Hotel is a merry, merry place,
When the jolly booze is flowin', flowin' free."

Now chorus, gen'men."

Having heard all I wante