r information, Mr. Minute," he said. "The Reverend Vincent
Lock, curate in a very poor neighborhood near Manchester, interested in
the boy scouts' movement. His brother, George Henry Locke, has had some
domestic trouble, his wife running away from him. She is now staying at
the Grand Hotel, Eastbourne, and is visited every day by her
brother-in-law, who is endeavoring to induce her to return to her home.
That disposes of the reverend gentleman and his confederate. Miss Paines
is a genuine landscape gardener, has been the plaintiff in two
breach-of-promise cases, one of which came to the court. There is no
doubt," the commissioner went on reading the paper, "that her _modus
operandi_ is to get elderly gentlemen to propose marriage and then to
commence her action. That disposes of Miss Paines, and you now know why
she is worrying you. Our friend 'Waxy' has another name--Thomas
Cobbler--and he has been three times convicted of larceny."

The commissioner looked up with a grim little smile.

"I shall have something to say to our own record department for failing
to trace 'Waxy,'" he said, and then resumed his reading.

"And that is everything! It disposes of our three," he said. "I will see
that 'Waxy' does not annoy you any more."

"But how the dickens--" began Mr. Minute. "How the dickens does this
fellow find out in so short a time?"

The commissioner shrugged his shoulders.

"He just knows," he said.

He took leave of his visitor at the door.

"If you are bothered any more," he said, "I should strongly advise you
to go to Saul Arthur Mann. I don't know what your real trouble is, and
you haven't told me exactly why you should fear an attack of any kind.
You won't have to tell Mr. Mann," he said with a little twinkle in his
eye.

"Why not?" asked the other suspiciously.

"Because he will know," said the commissioner.

"The devil he will!" growled John Minute, and stumped down the broad
stairs on to the Embankment, a greatly mystified man. He would have gone
off to seek an interview with this strange individual there and then,
for his curiosity was piqued and he had also a little apprehension, one
which, in his impatient way, he desired should be allayed, but he
remembered that he had asked May to lunch with him, and he was already
five minutes late.

He found the girl in the broad vestibule, waiting for him, and greeted
her affectionately.

Whatever may be said of John Minute that is not wholly to his cred