t we
see the keeper, too? I do not find him about and I should much like to
speak with him. Where is he?"

"Who--the keeper?" said Narkom. "Blest if I know. Is he about, my lads?"

"No, sir. Ain't _been_ about--has he, Petrie?--for the Lord knows how
long. Never thought of the beggar until this moment, sir."

"Nor did I," said Narkom. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen the
fellow since we came to the 'Y' of the road and found those footprints
leading here. No doubt he has gone back to his shelter on the Common
and---- Monsieur! Why are you smiling? Good God! you-- I---- Monsieur,
shall I send my men for the fellow? Do you want to see him?"

"Yes, Monsieur Narkom, I want to see him very, very much indeed--if you
can find him! But you can't, monsieur; and I fear me that you never
will. What you will find, however, if you will send your men to the
shelter of which you speak will be the _real_ keeper, either dead or
stunned or gagged, and his coat and hat and badge removed from his body
by the man who personated him."

"Good heavens above, man, you don't mean to say----"

"That you had the real criminal in your hands and let him go, that you
talked with him, walked with him, were taken in by him, and that he told
you no lie when he said the assassin really _did_ run into the arch,"
replied Cleek quietly. "It is the old old trick of that fellow who was
called the 'Vanishing Cracksman,' my friend: to knock down the fellow
who first gives the alarm, rip off his clothing, and then to lead the
hue and cry until there's a chance to steal away unobserved. Send your
men to the keeper's shelter and see if I have guessed the truth of that
little riddle or not. I'll lay you a sovereign, my friend, that your man
has slipped the leash, and it will be but a fluke of fate if you ever
lay hands on him again."

In a sort of panic Narkom turned to his men and sent them flying from
the house to investigate this startling assertion; and, turning as they
went, Cleek walked into the room where that awful dead figure hung. He
had taken but one step across the threshold, however, when he stopped
suddenly and began to sniff the air--less to the surprise of Narkom, who
had often seen him do this sort of thing before, than to Constable
Mellish, who stood looking at him in open-mouthed amazement.

"Good lud, man-- I should say, monsieur," exclaimed the superintendent
agitatedly, "after what you have just hinted, my head is in a whirl and
I