l him, then, my lad," said Chadwick, curtly, and hurried on towards
the Hillport car. His manner to policemen always mingled the veteran
with the comrade, and most of them indeed regarded him as an initiate of
the craft. Still, his behaviour on this occasion did somewhat surprise
the young policeman who had accosted him. And undoubtedly Thomas
Chadwick was scarcely acting according to the letter of the law. His
proper duty was to hand over all articles found in his car instantly to
the police--certainly not to keep them concealed on his person with a
view to restoring them with his own hands to their owners. But Thomas
Chadwick felt that, having once been a policeman, he was at liberty to
interpret the law to suit his own convenience. He caught the Hillport
car, and nodded the professional nod to its conductor, asking him a
technical question, and generally showing to the other passengers on the
platform that he was not as they, and that he had important official
privileges. Of course, he travelled free; and of course he stopped the
car when, its conductor being inside, two ladies signalled to it at the
bottom of Oldcastle Street. He had meant to say nothing whatever about
his treasure and his errand to the other conductor; but somehow, when
fares had been duly collected, and these two stood chatting on the
platform, the gold purse got itself into the conversation, and presently
the other conductor knew the entire history, and had even had a glimpse
of the purse itself.

Opposite the entrance to Mrs Clayton Vernon's grounds at Hillport Thomas
Chadwick slipped neatly, for all his vast bulk, off the swiftly-gliding
car. (A conductor on a car but not on duty would sooner perish by a
heavy fall than have a car stopped in order that he might descend from
it.) And Thomas Chadwick heavily crunched the gravel of the drive
leading up to Mrs Clayton Vernon's house, and imperiously rang the bell.

"Mrs Clayton Vernon in?" he officially asked the responding servant.

"She's _in_," said the servant. Had Thomas Chadwick been wearing his
broadcloth she would probably have added "sir."

"Well, will you please tell her that Mr Chadwick--Thomas Chadwick--wants
to speak to her?"

"Is it about the purse?" the servant questioned, suddenly brightening
into eager curiosity.

"Never you mind what it's about, miss," said Thomas Chadwick, sternly.

At the same moment Mrs Clayton Vernon's grey-curled head appeared behind
the white cap of t