d by the assurance that the rope was
not shaken for the purpose of breaking his neck, as by an exhibition of
impudence. As if anybody were afraid! Assistant Commissioners come and
go, but a valuable Chief Inspector is not an ephemeral office phenomenon.
He was not afraid of getting a broken neck. To have his performance
spoiled was more than enough to account for the glow of honest
indignation. And as thought is no respecter of persons, the thought of
Chief Inspector Heat took a threatening and prophetic shape. "You, my
boy," he said to himself, keeping his round and habitually roving eyes
fastened upon the Assistant Commissioner's face--"you, my boy, you don't
know your place, and your place won't know you very long either, I bet."

As if in provoking answer to that thought, something like the ghost of an
amiable smile passed on the lips of the Assistant Commissioner. His
manner was easy and business-like while he persisted in administering
another shake to the tight rope.

"Let us come now to what you have discovered on the spot, Chief
Inspector," he said.

"A fool and his job are soon parted," went on the train of prophetic
thought in Chief Inspector Heat's head. But it was immediately followed
by the reflection that a higher official, even when "fired out" (this was
the precise image), has still the time as he flies through the door to
launch a nasty kick at the shin-bones of a subordinate. Without
softening very much the basilisk nature of his stare, he said
impassively:

"We are coming to that part of my investigation, sir."

"That's right. Well, what have you brought away from it?"

The Chief Inspector, who had made up his mind to jump off the rope, came
to the ground with gloomy frankness.

"I've brought away an address," he said, pulling out of his pocket
without haste a singed rag of dark blue cloth. "This belongs to the
overcoat the fellow who got himself blown to pieces was wearing. Of
course, the overcoat may not have been his, and may even have been
stolen. But that's not at all probable if you look at this."

The Chief Inspector, stepping up to the table, smoothed out carefully the
rag of blue cloth. He had picked it up from the repulsive heap in the
mortuary, because a tailor's name is found sometimes under the collar.
It is not often of much use, but still--He only half expected to find
anything useful, but certainly he did not expect to find--not under the
collar at all, but stitc