two gentlemen. I think
those are friends of the Inspector's, come to see the Chalk Farm
photographs, that helped to hang his man. We've a lot of interesting
photographs, sir, if you like to have a look at them."

"If it won't take long," said Raffles, taking out his watch; and as the
clerk left our side for an instant he gripped my arm. "This is a bit
too hot," he whispered, "but we mustn't cut and run like rabbits. That
might be fatal. Hide your face in the photographs, and leave
everything to me. I'll have a train to catch as soon as ever I dare."

I obeyed without a word, and with the less uneasiness as I had time to
consider the situation. It even struck me that Raffles was for once
inclined to exaggerate the undeniable risk that we ran by remaining in
the same room with an officer whom both he and I knew only too well by
name and repute. Raffles, after all, had aged and altered out of
knowledge; but he had not lost the nerve that was equal to a far more
direct encounter than was at all likely to be forced upon us. On the
other hand, it was most improbable that a distinguished detective would
know by sight an obscure delinquent like myself; besides, this one had
come to the front since my day. Yet a risk it was, and I certainly did
not smile as I bent over the album of horrors produced by our guide. I
could still take an interest in the dreadful photographs of murderous
and murdered men; they appealed to the morbid element in my nature; and
it was doubtless with degenerate unction that I called Raffles's
attention to a certain scene of notorious slaughter. There was no
response. I looked round. There was no Raffles to respond. We had all
three been examining the photographs at one of the windows; at another
three newcomers were similarly engrossed; and without one word, or a
single sound, Raffles had decamped behind all our backs.

Fortunately the clerk was himself very busy gloating over the horrors
of the album; before he looked round I had hidden my astonishment, but
not my wrath, of which I had the instinctive sense to make no secret.

"My friend's the most impatient man on earth!" I exclaimed. "He said
he was going to catch a train, and now he's gone without a word!"

"I never heard him," said the clerk, looking puzzled.

"No more did I; but he did touch me on the shoulder," I lied, "and say
something or other. I was too deep in this beastly book to pay much
attention. He must have meant th