h we had both descended to the humble bicycle,
a lot of reading was forced upon us in the winter evenings. Thus the
war came as a boon to us both. It not only provided us with an honest
interest in life, but gave point and zest to innumerable spins across
Richmond Park, to the nearest paper shop; and it was from such an
expedition that I returned with inflammatory matter unconnected with
the war. The magazine was one of those that are read (and sold) by the
million; the article was rudely illustrated on every other page. Its
subject was the so-called Black Museum at Scotland Yard; and from the
catchpenny text we first learned that the gruesome show was now
enriched by a special and elaborate exhibit known as the Raffles Relics.

"Bunny," said Raffles, "this is fame at last! It is no longer
notoriety; it lifts one out of the ruck of robbers into the society of
the big brass gods, whose little delinquencies are written in water by
the finger of time. The Napoleon Relics we know, the Nelson Relics
we've heard about, and here are mine!"

"Which I wish to goodness we could see," I added, longingly. Next
moment I was sorry I had spoken. Raffles was looking at me across the
magazine. There was a smile on his lips that I knew too well, a light
in his eyes that I had kindled.

"What an excellent idea? he exclaimed, quite softly, as though working
it out already in his brain.

"I didn't mean it for one," I answered, "and no more do you."

"Certainly I do," said Raffles. "I was never more serious in my life."

"You would march into Scotland Yard in broad daylight?"

"In broad lime-light," he answered, studying the magazine again, "to
set eyes on my own once more. Why here they all are, Bunny--you never
told me there was an illustration. That's the chest you took to your
bank with me inside, and those must be my own rope-ladder and things on
top. They produce so badly in the baser magazines that it's impossible
to swear to them; there's nothing for it but a visit of inspection."

"Then you can pay it alone," said I grimly. "You may have altered, but
they'd know me at a glance."

"By all means, Bunny, if you'll get me the pass."

"A pass?" I cried triumphantly. "Of course we should have to get one,
and of course that puts an end to the whole idea. Who on earth would
give a pass for this show, of all others, to an old prisoner like me?"

Raffles addressed himself to the reading of the magazine with a shrug