Mrs. Joplin had quitted
the place had some time after been sentenced to six months' imprisonment
in the county jail. Possibly the prison authorities might know something
to lead to his discovery, and through him the news of his paramour might
be gained.

CHAPTER XX. MORE OF MRS. JOPLIN.

One day, at the hour of noon, the court boasting the tall residence of
Mr. Grabman was startled from the quiet usually reigning there at broad
daylight by the appearance of two men, evidently no inhabitants of the
place. The squalid, ill-favoured denizens lounging before the doors
stared hard, and at the fuller view of one of the men, most of them
retreated hastily within. Then, in those houses, you might have heard
a murmur of consternation and alarm. The ferret was in the burrow,--a
Bow-Street officer in the court! The two men paused, looked round,
and stopping before the dingy towerlike house, selected the bell which
appealed to the inmates of the ground-floor, to the left. At that
summons Bill the cracksman imprudently presented a full view of his
countenance through his barred window; he drew it back with astonishing
celerity, but not in time to escape the eye of the Bow-Street runner.

"Open the door, Bill,--there's nothing to fear; I have no summons
against you, 'pon honour. You know I never deceive. Why should I? Open
the door, I say."

No answer.

The officer tapped with his cane at the foul window.

"Bill, there's a gentleman who comes to you for information, and he will
pay for it handsomely."

Bill again appeared at the casement, and peeped forth very cautiously
through the bars.

"Bless my vitals, Mr. R----, and it is you, is it? What were you saying
about paying handsomely?"

"That your evidence is wanted,--not against a pal, man. It will hurt no
one, and put at least five guineas in your pocket."

"Ten guineas," said the Bow-Street officer's companion. "You be's a man
of honour, Mr. R----!" said Bill, emphatically; "and I scorns to doubt
you, so here goes."

With that he withdrew from the window, and in another minute or so the
door was opened, and Bill, with a superb bow, asked his visitors into
his room.

In the interval, leisure had been given to the cracksman to remove all
trace of the wonted educational employment of his hopeful children. The
urchins were seated on the floor playing at push-pin; and the Bow-Street
officer benignly patted a pair of curly heads as he passed them, drew
a chair to