logy I may say that all the best criminal
devices are not necessarily planned beforehand to the end; they are begun
any-old-how and the genius consists in carrying the thing through
afterwards, much the same as running a great war. I recked not what might
occur after I had nefariously induced the poor innocent to install the
machine; perhaps I had some vague idea that the Englishman's house is his
castle, though this seems ridiculous when considered calmly. However, what
matter these psychological dissections? He came with me unsuspecting, and I
piloted him out of the taxi without his ever noticing the name of the
street even. How could I have foreseen? Well, anyhow I didn't, or I
shouldn't have tipped him on the stairs.

With many nods and winks I gave my wife the hint how I had managed it, and
we went about the house whispering and hobnobbing in odd corners like a
couple of conspirators while he began the work of installation.

Then the first dreadful moment came. Suddenly he addressed me by my name,
with a certain suspicious interrogation in his tone.

"Who?" I asked blandly, going as red as a turkey-cock, of course; I never
can help it.

He looked surprised and I plunged heavily, giving the first name I could
think of, which happened to be the one he had mentioned in the taxi--his
own, in fact. He looked still more suspicious and I knew it had been a
mistake, especially as close to where he had been working were two
envelopes addressed to me. I am certain that if my wife had not called me
at that moment I should have gone permanently purple all over.

When I got back (I tried to get my wife to go, but she said she would
rather I went, and that I wasn't really as red as I felt)--when I got back
I could see that it had dawned upon him that I had wheedled him there
without his knowing exactly where he was, and that he was determined not to
be had. He asked me to sign for the installation.

Alas, I could not do that. It was only then that I realised that I am
constitutionally honest; besides they might find me out.

We both tried to turn his thoughts to pleasanter topics. Perhaps asking him
to have a glass of port was a mistake there are times when even bribery is
bad policy. Briefly, after a mumbled remark that "there was something
fishy," he refused to leave the box. Dry-eyed we watched him take it all
down and depart in a dudgeon. We were left with a vision of shameless
visitors with their twopenny calls and in