iah gentleman can be the
completest blackguard of them all. He spoke coarsely, and the infectious
Cockney accent showed itself in his vowels; but Dunbar, a trained
observer, summed up his man in a moment and acted accordingly.

"Come in and shut the door!" he directed. "No"--as Mrs. Brian sought to
enter behind her husband--"I wish to speak with you, privately."

"Hop it!" instructed Brian, jerking his thumb over his shoulder--and
Mrs. Brian obediently disappeared, closing the door.

"Now," said Dunbar, looking the man up and down, "have you been into the
depot, to-day?"

"No."

"But you have heard that there's an inquiry?"

"I've heard nothing. I've been in bed."

"We won't argue about that. I'll simply put a question to you: Where
did you pick up the fare that you dropped at Palace Mansions at twelve
o'clock last night?"

"Palace Mansions!" muttered Brian, shifting uneasily beneath the
unflinching stare of the tawny eyes. "What d'you mean? What Palace
Mansions?"

"Don't quibble!" warned Dunbar, thrusting out a finger at him. "This is
not a matter of a loss of license; it's a life job!"

"Life job!" whispered the man, and his weak face suddenly relaxed,
so that, oddly, the old refinement shone out through the new, vulgar
veneer.

"Answer my questions straight and square and I'll take your word that
you have not seen the inquiry!" said Dunbar.

"Dick Hamper's done this for me!" muttered Brian. "He's a dirty, low
swine! Somebody'll do for him one night!"

"Leave Hamper out of the question," snapped Dunbar. "You put down a fare
at Palace Mansions at twelve o'clock last night?"

For one tremendous moment, Brian hesitated, but the good that was in
him, or the evil--a consciousness of wrongdoing, or of retribution
pending--respect for the law, or fear of its might--decided his course.

"I did."

"It was a man?"

Again Brian, with furtive glance, sought to test his opponent; but his
opponent was too strong for him. With Dunbar's eyes upon his face, he
chose not to lie.

"It was a woman."

"How was she dressed?"

"In a fur motor-coat--civet fur."

The man of culture spoke in those two words, "civet fur"; and Dunbar
nodded quickly, his eyes ablaze at the importance of the evidence.

"Was she alone?"

"She was."

"What fare did she pay you?"

"The meter only registered eightpence, but she gave me half-a-crown."

"Did she appear to be ill?"

"Very ill. She wore no hat, and I supposed her to b