the hall. We passed each other at the head
of the stairs, and I cluttered down, making as much racket as I
could; then at the foot of the stairs I took off my boots and crept
upstairs again, more to hear the fellow's voice than anything else,
so I could recognize him afterwards."

"What did you hear?" inquired Mr. Barton, as McCabe paused to light
a cigar which Mr. Sutherland had handed him.

"I heard him say, 'Who was that I passed outside, Jim?' 'Only a
cross-country friend of mine,' says Jim. 'What friends are you
entertaining here in these quarters?' says he, kind o' sharp like.
'An' sure,' says Jim, 'it was only Dan McCoy, the clerk of the big
London lawyer who has come over with the young Mr. Mainwaring I've
heard you speak of, and a right clever fellow he is, too!' 'Clerk!'
he roars out, 'clerk, you blithering idiot! he's no more clerk
than you are coachman, nor half so much, for you're fit for nothing
but to take care of horses all your days! Do you want to know,'
says he, 'who you've been entertaining?' That's no more nor less
than Dan McCabe, a Scotland Yard man they've brought over, nobody
knows what for, but whatever his game, he's made you play into his
hand! I didn't stay to hear more," McCabe concluded, "I got out."

"But how does this Merrick know you?" Mr. Barton inquired, as the
laughter caused by McCabe's recital subsided.

"He doesn't know me, he only knows of me," the man replied. "I
found that out an hour or two later, when I met him in a crowd at
the Wellington Hotel;" the speaker glanced curiously in the
direction of Harold Mainwaring for an instant, and then continued,
"I knew him by his voice, but I spoke with him, and he had no idea
who I was."

"But how has he heard of you?" persisted Mr. Barton.

"There was an American detective--a friend of his--who came over
on the 'Campania' on the same trip with Mr. Mainwaring. He was
following up a case in London, but he managed to keep his eye on
Mr. Mainwaring and kept this Merrick posted of all that he was doing.
It was because of some remarks of his that I got wind of, that I
determined from the first to get onto his game."

"Well, Mac," said Mr. Barton, tentatively, "are you ready to go to
work now?"

The keen eyes flashed for an instant in the attorney's face, then
the man answered quietly, "If you've nothing to tell me, I'm ready
to go to work on my own hook and in my own way; if you've anything
to say, I'll hear it."

Mr. Ba