ormed, with
much less discomfort to their victims.'

'France,' snorted Hale in derision, 'why, they call a man guilty there
until he's proven innocent.'

'Yes, Mr. Hale, and the same seems to be the case in Imperial Flats.
You have quite made up your mind that Mr. Summertrees is guilty, and
will not be content until he proves his innocence. I venture to
predict that you will hear from him before long in a manner that may
astonish you.'

Hale grunted and looked at his watch. The minutes passed very slowly
as we sat there smoking, and at last even I began to get uneasy.
Macpherson, seeing our anxiety, said that when he came in the fog was
almost as thick as it had been the week before, and that there might
be some difficulty in getting a cab. Just as he was speaking the door
was unlocked from the outside, and Podgers entered, bearing a thick
volume in his hand. This he gave to his superior, who turned over its
pages in amazement, and then looked at the back, crying,--

'_Encyclopaedia of Sport_, 1893! What sort of a joke is this,
Mr. Macpherson?'

There was a pained look on Mr. Macpherson's face as he reached forward
and took the book. He said with a sigh,--

'If you had allowed me to telephone, Mr. Hale, I should have made it
perfectly plain to Summertrees what was wanted. I might have known
this mistake was liable to occur. There is an increasing demand for
out-of-date books of sport, and no doubt Mr. Summertrees thought this
was what I meant. There is nothing for it but to send your man back to
Park Lane and tell Mr. Summertrees that what we want is the locked
volume of accounts for 1893, which we call the encyclopaedia. Allow me
to write an order that will bring it. Oh, I'll show you what I have
written before your man takes it,' he said, as Hale stood ready to
look over his shoulder.

On my notepaper he dashed off a request such as he had outlined, and
handed it to Hale, who read it and gave it to Podgers.

'Take that to Summertrees, and get back as quickly as possible. Have
you a cab at the door?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Is it foggy outside?'

'Not so much, sir, as it was an hour ago. No difficulty about the
traffic now, sir.'

'Very well, get back as soon as you can.'

Podgers saluted, and left with the book under his arm. Again the door
was locked, and again we sat smoking in silence until the stillness
was broken by the tinkle of the telephone. Hale put the receiver to
his ear.

'Yes, this is the Impe