ssed like a mechanic was acting of course in the employment
of the Indians. But I am as much puzzled to account for his sudden
assumption of drunkenness as Gooseberry himself."

"I think I can give a guess at what it means, sir," said the Sergeant.
"If you will reflect, you will see that the man must have had some
pretty strict instructions from the Indians. They were far too
noticeable themselves to risk being seen at the bank, or in the
public-house--they were obliged to trust everything to their
deputy. Very good. Their deputy hears a certain number named in the
public-house, as the number of the room which the sailor is to have for
the night--that being also the room (unless our notion is all
wrong) which the Diamond is to have for the night, too. Under those
circumstances, the Indians, you may rely on it, would insist on having a
description of the room--of its position in the house, of its capability
of being approached from the outside, and so on. What was the man to do,
with such orders as these? Just what he did! He ran up-stairs to get
a look at the room, before the sailor was taken into it. He was found
there, making his observations--and he shammed drunk, as the easiest way
of getting out of the difficulty. That's how I read the riddle. After he
was turned out of the public-house, he probably went with his report to
the place where his employers were waiting for him. And his employers,
no doubt, sent him back to make sure that the sailor was really settled
at the public-house till the next morning. As for what happened at 'The
Wheel of Fortune,' after the boy left--we ought to have discovered that
last night. It's eleven in the morning, now. We must hope for the best,
and find out what we can."

In a quarter of an hour more, the cab stopped in Shore Lane, and
Gooseberry opened the door for us to get out.

"All right?" asked the Sergeant.

"All right," answered the boy.

The moment we entered "The Wheel of Fortune" it was plain even to my
inexperienced eyes that there was something wrong in the house.

The only person behind the counter at which the liquors were served, was
a bewildered servant girl, perfectly ignorant of the business. One or
two customers, waiting for their morning drink, were tapping impatiently
on the counter with their money. The bar-maid appeared from the inner
regions of the parlour, excited and preoccupied. She answered Sergeant
Cuff's inquiry for the landlord, by telling him sha