s on the table I began to
think seriously about his proposal. Even supposing he was cracked, it
was absolutely money for nothing.

"'Of course,' he said, 'you'll lose your job and you may be arrested,
but you'll say that you had been out with a few friends and were a
little excited, also that you never could stand white hats. Stick to
that story and the balance of a hundred pounds will reach you on the
following morning.'

"I asked him for further particulars, and I asked him why he had picked
me for the job. He replied that he had been looking for some time for
the right man; a man who was strong enough physically to accomplish the
thing, and someone"--Bampton's eyes twinkled again--"with a dash of the
devil in him, but at the same time a man who could be relied upon to
stick to his guns and not to give the game away.

"You asked me to be brief, and I'll try to be. The man in the white hat
was described to me, and the exact time and place of the meeting. I just
had to grab his white hat, smash it, and face the music. I agreed. I
don't deny that I had a couple of stiff drinks before I set out, but the
memory of that fifty pounds locked up here in my room and the further
hundred promised, bucked me up wonderfully. It was impossible to mistake
my man; I could see him coming toward me as I waited just outside a sort
of little restaurant called the Cafe Dame. As arranged, I bumped into
him, grabbed his hat and jumped on it."

He paused, raising his hand to his head reminiscently.

"My man was a bit of a scrapper," he continued, "and he played hell.
I've never heard such language in my life, and the way he laid about me
with his cane is something I am not likely to forget in a hurry. A crowd
gathered, naturally, and (also naturally) I was 'pinched.' That didn't
matter much. I got off lightly; and although I've been dismissed by
Peters and Peters, twenty crisp fivers are locked in my trunk there,
with the ten which I received in the City."

Harley checked him, and:

"May I see the envelope in which they arrived?" he asked.

"Sorry," replied Bampton, "but I burned it. I thought it was playing the
game to do so. It wouldn't have helped you much, though," he added;
"It was an ordinary common envelope, posted in the City, address
typewritten, and not a line enclosed."

"Registered?"

"No."

Bampton stood looking at us with a curious expression on his face, and
suddenly:

"There's one point," he said, "on which my