rd him with nose over the gutter.

"He sees farther than we can. His eyes penetrate walls and
partitions," I remarked. Then, carelessly and with the calm drawing
forth of a folded bit of paper which I held out toward him, I added:
"By the way, here is something of yours."

His hand rose instinctively to take it; then dropped.

"I don't know what you mean," he remarked. "You have nothing of
mine."

"No? Then John Judson Moore had another brother." And I thrust
the paper back into my pocket.

He followed it with his eye. It was the memorandum I had found in
the old book of memoirs plucked from the library shelf within, and
he recognized it for his and saw that I did also. But he failed
to show the white feather.

"You are good at ransacking," he observed; "pity that it can not
be done to more purpose."

I smiled and made a fresh start. With my hand thrust again into my
pocket, I remarked, without even so much as a glance at him:

"I fear that you do some injustice to the police. We are not such
bad fellows; neither do we waste as much time as you seem to think."
And drawing out my hand, with the little filigree ball in it, I
whirled the latter innocently round and round on my finger. As it
flashed under his eye, I cast him a penetrating look.

He tried to carry the moment off successfully; I will give him so
much credit. But it was asking too much of his curiosity, and
there was no mistaking the eager glitter which lighted his glance
as he saw within his reach this article which a moment before he
had probably regarded as lost forever.

"For instance," I went on, watching him furtively, though quite
sure from his very first look that he knew no more now of the secret
of this little ball than he knew when he jotted down the memorandum
I had just pocketed before his eyes, "a little thing--such a little
thing as this," I repeated, giving the bauble another twist--"may
lead to discoveries such as no common search would yield in years.
I do not say that it has; but such a thing is possible, you know:
who better?"

My nonchalance was too much for him. He surveyed me with covert
dislike, and dryly observed "Your opportunities have exceeded mine,
even with my own effects. That petty trinket which you have
presumed to flaunt in my face--and of whose value I am the worst
judge in the world since I have never had it in my hand--descended
to me with the rest of Mrs. Jeffrey's property. Your conduct,
ther