immy over his glass in silent admiration. This
flat which Jimmy had rented for a year, in the hope that the
possession of a fixed abode might help to tie him down to one spot,
was handsomely, even luxuriously, furnished. To Spike, every chair
and table in the room had a romance of its own, as having been
purchased out of the proceeds of that New Asiatic Bank robbery, or
from the revenue accruing from the Duchess of Havant's jewels. He
was dumb with reverence for one who could make burglary pay to this
extent. In his own case, the profession had rarely provided anything
more than bread and butter, and an occasional trip to Coney Island.

Jimmy caught his eye, and spoke.

"Well, Spike," he said. "Curious that we should meet like this?"

"De limit," agreed Spike.

"I can't imagine you three thousand miles from New York. How do you
know the cars still run both ways on Broadway?"

A wistful look came into Spike's eyes.

"I've been dis side t'ree months. I t'ought it was time I give old
Lunnon a call. T'ings was gettin' too fierce in Noo York. De cops
was layin' fer me. Dey didn't seem like as if they had any use fer
me. So, I beat it."

"Bad luck," said Jimmy.

"Fierce," agreed Spike.

"Say, Spike," said Jimmy, "do you know, I spent a whole heap of time
before I left New York looking for you?"

"Gee! I wish you'd found me! Did youse want me to help on some lay,
boss? Is it a bank, or--jools?"

"Well, no, not that. Do you remember that night we broke into that
house uptown--the police-captain's house?"

"Sure."

"What was his name?"

"What, de cop's? Why, McEachern, boss."

"McWhat? How do you spell it?"

"Search me," said Spike, simply.

"Say it again. Fill your lungs, and enunciate slowly and clearly. Be
bell-like. Now."

"McEachern."

"Ah! And where was the house? Can you remember that?"

Spike's forehead wrinkled.

"It's gone," he said, at last. "It was somewheres up some street up
de town."

"That's a lot of help," said Jimmy. "Try again."

"It'll come back some time, boss, sure."

"Then, I'm going to keep an eye on you till it does. Just for the
moment, you're the most important man in the world to me. Where are
you living?"

"Me! Why, in de Park. Dat's right. One of dem swell detached benches
wit' a Southern exposure."

"Well, unless you prefer it, you needn't sleep in the Park any more.
You can pitch your moving tent with me."

"What, here, boss?"

"Unless we move."

"Me fer