port. Look them
over; and when you have made your way through all the gabble, I think
you will agree with me that the conceited booby has looked for the thief
in every direction but the right one. You can lay your hand on the
guilty person in five minutes, now. Settle the case at once; forward
your report to me at this place, and tell Mr. Sharpin that he is
suspended till further notice.

Yours,

FRANCIS THEAKSTONE.

FROM SERGEANT BULMER TO CHIEF INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE.

London, July 10th.

INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE,--Your letter and inclosure came safe to hand. Wise
men, they say, may always learn something even from a fool. By the time
I had got through Sharpin's maundering report of his own folly, I saw my
way clear enough to the end of the Rutherford Street case, just as you
thought I should. In half an hour's time I was at the house. The first
person I saw there was Mr. Sharpin himself.

"Have you come to help me?" says he.

"Not exactly," says I. "I've come to tell you that you are suspended
till further notice."

"Very good," says he, not taken down by so much as a single peg in his
own estimation. "I thought you would be jealous of me. It's very
natural; and I don't blame you. Walk in, pray, and make yourself at
home. I'm off to do a little detective business on my own account, in
the neighbourhood of the Regent's Park. Ta-ta, sergeant, ta-ta!"

With those words he took himself out of the way, which was exactly what
I wanted him to do.

As soon as the maid-servant had shut the door, I told her to inform her
master that I wanted to say a word to him in private. She showed me into
the parlour behind the shop, and there was Mr. Yatman all alone, reading
the newspaper.

"About this matter of the robbery, sir," says I.

He cut me short, peevishly enough, being naturally a poor, weak,
womanish sort of man. "Yes, yes, I know," says he. "You have come to
tell me that your wonderfully clever man, who has bored holes in my
second-floor partition, has made a mistake, and is off the scent of the
scoundrel who has stolen my money."

"Yes, sir," says I. "That _is_ one of the things I came to tell you. But
I have got something else to say besides that."

"Can you tell me who the thief is?" says he more pettish than ever.

"Yes, sir," says I, "I think I can."

He put down the newspaper, a