ly
for the professional gladiator. And they want to know whether my
experience tallies with their theory."

"So they say!"

"They quote the case of a league player, _sus per coll._, and any
number of suicides. It really is rather in my public line."

"In yours, if you like, but not in mine," said I. "No, Raffles,
they've got their eye on us both, and mean to put us under the
microscope, or they never would have pitched on _me_."

Raffles smiled on my perturbation.

"I almost wish you were right, Bunny! It would be even better fun than
I mean to make it as it is. But it may console you to hear that it was
I who gave them your name. I told them you were a far keener
criminologist than myself. I am delighted to hear they have taken my
hint, and that we are to meet at their gruesome board."

"If I accept," said I, with the austerity he deserved.

"If you don't," rejoined Raffles, "you will miss some sport after both
our hearts. Think of it, Bunny! These fellows meet to wallow in all
the latest crimes; we wallow with them as though we knew more about it
than themselves. Perhaps we don't, for few criminologists have a soul
above murder; and I quite expect to have the privilege of lifting the
discussion into our own higher walk. They shall give their morbid
minds to the fine art of burgling, for a change; and while we're about
it, Bunny, we may as well extract their opinion of our noble selves.
As authors, as collaborators, we will sit with the flower of our
critics, and find our own level in the expert eye. It will be a
piquant experience, if not an invaluable one; if we are sailing too
near the wind, we are sure to hear about it, and can trim our yards
accordingly. Moreover, we shall get a very good dinner into the
bargain, or our noble host will belie a European reputation."

"Do you know him?" I asked.

"We have a pavilion acquaintance, when it suits my lord," replied
Raffles, chuckling. "But I know all about him. He was president one
year of the M.C.C., and we never had a better. He knows the game,
though I believe he never played cricket in his life. But then he
knows most things, and has never done any of them. He has never even
married, and never opened his lips in the House of Lords. Yet they say
there is no better brain in the august assembly, and he certainly made
us a wonderful speech last time the Australians were over. He has read
everything and (to his credit in these days) never written a line.
All