. I have
had some of them here, trying to sell family jewels for money to throw
away on painted women. There was one who called some days ago in a
half-intoxicated condition. He clapped me on the back as impudent as you
please, and calling me a thing--a dear old thing, which is one of their
slang phrases--asked me what he could screw out of me for a good
diamond. I sent him and his diamond off with a flea in the ear." Mr.
Wendover's gummy lips curved in a grim smile at the recollection.

"Can you describe him more particularly?" asked Colwyn, with sudden
interest.

"I paid no particular attention to him, and I wouldn't know him again if
he were to walk in the door. It was almost dark when he came, and my
eyes are not young. But he was not the man ye're after. It was days
before the murder."

"Did he give you his name?"

"He did not, and I wouldn't tell ye if he did. What's it to do with the
object of your visit? Ye're a persistent sort of young fellow, but I'm
not going to let ye hold a general fishing inquiry into my business.
There are two kinds of foolish folk in this world. Those who babble of
their affairs to their womenfolk, and those who babble of them to
strangers. I have no womenfolk, thank God! so I cannot talk to the
futile creatures."

"Then I shall not ask you to break the other half of your maxim on my
account," said Colwyn, rising with a smile.

"It would be no good if ye did," responded Mr. Wendover, with a
reciprocatory grin which displayed two yellow fangs like the teeth of a
walrus. "My business conscience is already pricking me for having said
so much. He that holds his own counsel gives away nothing--except that
he holds his counsel. Ye might do worse than lay that to your heart, Mr.
Colwyn, in your walk through life. There's fifty years' experience
behind it. Good-bye to ye, Mr. Colwyn, and ye, young man. I wish ye both
luck in your search, but my advice is, try the pawn-shops." At the
pressure of his thumb on the table the young Jew appeared from the next
room, as if summoned by a magic wand, to let the visitors out.

"That's a queer old bird," said Caldew, as they walked away. "Do you
think he has told us the truth?"

Colwyn did not reply. He was thinking rapidly, and wondering whether by
any possibility he had made a mistake. But once more there flashed into
his mind, like an image projected on a screen, the little scene which he
alone had witnessed at the flat on the previous evening-