Blindway. Would he drive
on to the Yard at once and bring Mr. Fullaway with him?--both were
wanted, particularly in connection with the Perrigo information.

Allerdyke promised for himself, and went upstairs to find Fullaway. He
met him coming down, and gave him the message. Fullaway looked undecided.

"You know what I told you yesterday, Allerdyke," he said. "I didn't want
to be bothered further with these police chaps. Van Koon and I are on a
line of our own, and--"

"As you like," interrupted Allerdyke, "but all the same, if I were in
your place I shouldn't refuse a chance of acquiring information. Even if
you don't want to tell the police anything, that's no reason why you
shouldn't learn something from them."

"There's that in it, certainly," assented Fullaway. "All right. You get a
taxi and I'll join you in a minute or two."

As they got out of one cab at the police headquarters Celia Lennard
appeared in another. She made a little grimace as the two men
greeted her.

"Again!" she exclaimed, "What are we going to be treated to now? More old
women with vague stories, I suppose. What good is it at all? And when am
I going to hear something about my jewels?"

"You never know what you're going to hear when you visit these palatial
halls," answered Fullaway. "You may be going to have the biggest surprise
of your life, you know. They sent for you?"

"Rang me up in the middle of my breakfast," answered Celia. "Well--let's
find out what new sensation this is. Some extraordinary creature on view
again, of course."

The creature on view proved to be a little fat man, obviously French or
Swiss, who sat, his rotund figure tightly enveloped in a frock-coat, the
lapel of which was decorated with a bit of ribbon, on the edge of a chair
facing the chief's desk. He was a nervous, alert little man; his
carefully trimmed moustache and pointed beard quivered with excitement;
his dark eyes blazed. And at sight of the elegantly attired lady he
bounced out of his chair, swept his silk hat to the ground, and executed
a deep bow of the most extreme politeness.

"This," observed the chief, with a smile at his visitors, "is Monsieur
Aristide Bonnechose. M. Bonnechose believes that he can tell us
something. It is a supplement to what Mrs. Perrigo told us yesterday. It
relates, of course to the young man whom Mrs. Perrigo told us of--the
young man who led pugs in Kensington Gardens."

"The pogs of Madame, my spouse," said M. Bonn