hought it was one of these
here sooicides, or some one that had had--well, a drop too much."

He eyed me curiously. I dare say I looked, in my hatless and drenched
condition, as if I might come under the latter category.

"It's all right," I answered, forcing a laugh. "I wasn't meditating a
plunge in the river. My hat blew off, and when I looked after it I saw
something that interested me, and stayed to watch."

It was a lame explanation and not precisely true. He glanced over the
parapet in his turn. The rain was abating once more, and the light was
growing as the clouds sped onwards. The moon was at full, and would only
set at dawn.

"I don't see anything," he remarked. "What was it, sir? Anything
suspicious?"

His tone inferred that it must have been something very much out of the
common to have kept me there in the rain. Having told him so much I was
bound to tell him more.

"A rowboat, with two or three people in it; going down-stream. That's
unusual at this time of night--or morning--isn't it?"

He grinned widely.

"Was that all? It wasn't worth the wetting you've got, sir!"

"I don't see where the joke comes in," I said.

"Well, sir, you newspaper gents are always on the lookout for
mysteries," he asserted, half apologetically. "There's nothing out of
the way in a boat going up or down-stream at any hour of the day or
night; or if there was the river police would be on its track in a
jiffy. They patrol the river same as we walk our beat. It might have
been one of their boats you saw, or some bargees as had been making a
night of it ashore. If I was you, I'd turn in as soon as possible.
'Tain't good for any one to stand about in wet clothes."

We walked the length of the bridge together, and he continued to hold
forth loquaciously. We parted, on the best of terms, at the end of his
beat; and following his advice, I walked rapidly homewards. I was
chilled to the bone, and unutterably miserable, but if I stayed out all
night that would not alter the situation.

The street door swung back under my touch, as I was in the act of
inserting my latch-key in the lock. Some one had left it open, in
defiance of the regulations, well known to every tenant of the block. I
slammed it with somewhat unnecessary vigor, and the sound went booming
and echoing up the well of the stone staircase, making a horrible din,
fit to wake the seven sleepers of Ephesus.

It did waken the housekeeper's big watch-dog, chained up