y had sat in silence for the greater part of an hour, when Beale's
tap on the door brought the reader round with narrow eyes.

"Expecting a visitor, professor?" he asked in German.

"Nein, nein," rambled the old man, "who shall visit me? Ah yes"--he
tapped his fat forefinger--"I remember, the Fraeulein was to call."

He got up and, shuffling to the door, slipped back the bolt and turned
it. His face fell when he saw Beale, and the man at the table rose.

"Hope I am not disturbing you," said the detective. "I thought you
lived alone."

He, too, spoke in the language which the professor understood best.

"That is a friend of mine," said old Heyler uncomfortably, "we live
together. I did not think you knew my address."

"Introduce me," said the man at the table coolly.

The old professor looked dubiously from one to the other.

"It is my friend, Herr Homo."

"Herr Homo," repeated Beale, offering his hand, "my name is Beale."

Homo shot a keen glance at him.

"A split! or my criminal instincts fail me," he said, pleasantly enough.

"Split?" repeated Beale, puzzled.

"American I gather from your accent," said Mr. Homo; "pray sit down.
'Split' is the phrase employed by the criminal classes to describe a
gentleman who in your country is known as a 'fly cop'!"

"Oh, a detective," smiled Beale. "No, in the sense you mean I am not a
detective. At any rate, I have not come on business."

"So I gather," said the other, seating himself, "or you would have
brought one of the 'busy fellows' with you. Here again you must pardon
the slang but we call the detective the 'busy fellow' to distinguish him
from the 'flattie,' who is the regular cop. Unless you should be under
any misapprehension, Mr. Beale, it is my duty to tell you that I am a
representative of the criminal classes, a fact which our learned
friend," he nodded toward the distressed professor, "never ceases to
deplore," and he smiled blandly.

They had dropped into English and the professor after waiting
uncomfortably for the visitor to explain his business had dropped back
to his work with a grunt.

"I am Parson Homo and this is my _pied-a-terre_. We professional
criminals must have somewhere to go when we are not in prison, you
know."

The voice was that of an educated man, its modulation, the confidence
and the perfect poise of the speaker suggested the college man.

"So that you shall not be shocked by revelations I must tell you that I
have just co