EF

I

Society persons are not likely to have forgotten the series of
audacious robberies by which so many of themselves suffered in turn
during the brief course of a recent season. Raid after raid was made
upon the smartest houses in town, and within a few weeks more than one
exalted head had been shorn of its priceless tiara. The Duke and
Duchess of Dorchester lost half the portable pieces of their historic
plate on the very night of their Graces' almost equally historic
costume ball. The Kenworthy diamonds were taken in broad daylight,
during the excitement of a charitable meeting on the ground floor, and
the gifts of her belted bridegroom to Lady May Paulton while the outer
air was thick with a prismatic shower of confetti. It was obvious that
all this was the work of no ordinary thief, and perhaps inevitable that
the name of Raffles should have been dragged from oblivion by callous
disrespecters of the departed and unreasoning apologists for the
police. These wiseacres did not hesitate to bring a dead man back to
life because they knew of no living one capable of such feats; it is
their heedless and inconsequent calumnies that the present paper is
partly intended to refute. As a matter of fact, our joint innocence in
this matter was only exceeded by our common envy, and for a long time,
like the rest of the world, neither of us had the slightest clew to the
identity of the person who was following in our steps with such
irritating results.

"I should mind less," said Raffles, "if the fellow were really playing
my game. But abuse of hospitality was never one of my strokes, and it
seems to me the only shot he's got. When we took old Lady Melrose's
necklace, Bunny, we were not staying with the Melroses, if you
recollect."

We were discussing the robberies for the hundredth time, but for once
under conditions more favorable to animated conversation than our
unique circumstances permitted in the flat. We did not often dine out.
Dr. Theobald was one impediment, the risk of recognition was another.
But there were exceptions, when the doctor was away or the patient
defiant, and on these rare occasions we frequented a certain
unpretentious restaurant in the Fulham quarter, where the cooking was
plain but excellent, and the cellar a surprise. Our bottle of '89
champagne was empty to the label when the subject arose, to be touched
by Raffles in the reminiscent manner indicated above. I can see his
clear eye u