Six months later T. X. Meredith was laboriously tracing an elusiveline which occurred on an ordnance map of Sussex when the ChiefCommissioner announced himself.

　　Sir George described T. X. as the most wholesome corrective apublic official could have, and never missed an opportunity ofmeeting his subordinate (as he said) for this reason.

　　"What are you doing there?" he growled.

　　"The lesson this morning," said T. X. without looking up, "ismaps."Sir George passed behind his assistant and looked over hisshoulder.

　　"That is a very old map you have got there," he said.

　　"1876. It shows the course of a number of interesting littlestreams in this neighbourhood which have been lost sight of forone reason or the other by the gentleman who made the survey at alater period. I am perfectly sure that in one of these streams Ishall find what I am seeking.""You haven't given up hope, then, in regard to Lexman?""I shall never give up hope," said T. X.,"until I am dead, andpossibly not then.""Let me see, what did he get - fifteen years!""Fifteen years," repeated T. X.,"and a very fortunate man toescape with his life."Sir George walked to the window and stared out on to busyWhitehall.

　　"I am told you are quite friendly with Kara again."T. X. made a noise which might be taken to indicate his assent tothe statement.

　　"I suppose you know that gentleman has made a very heroic attemptto get you fired," he said.

　　"I shouldn't wonder," said T. X. "I made as heroic an attempt toget him hung, and one good turn deserves another. What did he do?

　　See ministers and people?""He did," said Sir George.

　　"He's a silly ass," responded T. X.

　　"I can understand all that"-the Chief Commissioner turned round -"but what I cannot understand is your apology to him.""There are so many things you don't understand, Sir George," saidT. X. tartly, "that I despair of ever cataloguing them.""You are an insolent cub," growled his Chief. "Come to lunch.""Where will you take me?" asked T. X. cautiously.

　　"To my club.""I'm sorry," said the other, with elaborate politeness, "I havelunched once at your club. Need I say more?"He smiled, as he worked after his Chief had gone, at therecollection of Kara's profound astonishment and the gratificationhe strove so desperately to disguise.

　　Kara was a vain man, immensely conscious of his good looks,conscious of his wealth. He had behaved most handsomely, for notonly had he accepted the apology, but he left nothing undone toshow his desire to create a good impression upon the man who hadso grossly insulted him.

　　T. X. had accepted an invitation to stay a weekend at Kara's"little place in the country," and had found there assembledeverything that the heart could desire in the way of fellowship,eminent politicians who might conceivably be of service to anambitious young Assistant Commissioner of Police, beautiful ladiesto interest and amuse him. Kara had even gone to the length ofengaging a theatrical company to play "Sweet Lavender," and forthis purpose the big ballroom at Hever Court had been transformedinto a theatre.

　　As he was undressing for bed that night T. X. remembered that hehad mentioned to Kara that "Sweet Lavender" was his favorite play,and he realized that the entertainment was got up especially forhis benefit.

　　In a score of other ways Kara had endeavoured to consolidate thefriendship. He gave the young Commissioner advice about a railwaycompany which was operating in Asia Minor, and the shares of whichstood a little below par. T. X. thanked him for the advice, anddid not take it, nor did he feel any regret when the shares rose 3pounds in as many weeks.

　　T. X. had superintended the disposal of Beston Priory. He had thefurniture removed to London, and had taken a flat for GraceLexman.

　　She had a small income of her own, and this, added to the largeroyalties which came to her (as she was bitterly conscious) inincreasing volume as the result of the publicity of the trial,placed her beyond fear of want.

　　"Fifteen years," murmured T. X.,as he worked and whistled.

　　There had been no hope for John Lexman from the start. He was indebt to the man he killed. His story of threatening letters wasnot substantiated. The revolver which he said had been flourishedat him had never been found. Two people believed implicitly inthe story, and a sympathetic Home Secretary had assured T. X.

　　personally that if he could find the revolver and associate itwith the murder beyond any doubt, John Lexman would be pardoned.

　　Every stream in the neighbourhood had been dragged. In one case asmall river had been dammed, and the bed had been carefully driedand sifted, but there was no trace of the weapon, and T. X. hadtried methods more effective and certainly less legal.

　　A mysterious electrician had called at 456 Cadogan Square inKara's absence, and he was armed with such indisputable authoritythat he was permitted to penetrate to Kara's private room, inorder to examine certain fitments.

　　Kara returning next day thought no more of the matter when it wasreported to him, until going to his safe that night he discoveredthat it had been opened and ransacked.

　　As it happened, most of Kara's valuable and confidentialpossessions were at the bank. In a fret of panic and atconsiderable cost he had the safe removed and another put in itsplace of such potency that the makers offered to indemnify himagainst any loss from burglary.

　　T. X. finished his work, washed his hands, and was drying themwhen Mansus came bursting into the room. It was not usual forMansus to burst into anywhere. He was a slow, methodical,painstaking man, with a deliberate and an official, manner.

　　"What's the matter?" asked T. X. quickly.

　　"We didn't search Vassalaro's lodgings," cried Mansusbreathlessly. "It just occurred to me as I was coming overWestminster Bridge. I was on top of a bus - ""Wake up!" said T. X. "You're amongst friends and cut all that'bus' stuff out. Of course we searched Vassalaro's lodgings!""No, we didn't, sir," said the other triumphantly. "He lived inGreat James Street.""He lived in the Adelphi," corrected T. X.

　　"There were two places where he lived," said Mansus.

　　"When did you learn this?" asked his Chief, dropping hisflippancy.

　　"This morning. I was on a bus coming across Westminster Bridge,and there were two men in front of me, and I heard the word'Vassalaro' and naturally I pricked up my ears.""It was very unnatural, but proceed," said T. X.

　　"One of the men - a very respectable person - said, 'That chapVassalaro used to lodge in my place, and I've still got a lot ofhis things. What do you think I ought to do?'""And you said," suggested the other.

　　"I nearly frightened his life out of him," said Mansus. "I said,'I am a police officer and I want you to come along with me.'""And of course he shut up and would not say another word," said T.

　　X.

　　"That's true, sir," said Mansus, "but after awhile I got him totalk. Vassalaro lived in Great James Street, 604, on the thirdfloor. In fact, some of his furniture is there still. He had agood reason for keeping two addresses by all accounts."T. X. nodded wisely.

　　"What was her name?" he asked.

　　"He had a wife," said the other, "but she left him about fourmonths before he was killed. He used the Adelphi address forbusiness purposes and apparently he slept two or three nights ofthe week at Great James Street. I have told the man to leaveeverything as it is, and that we will come round."Ten minutes later the two officers were in the somewhat gloomyapartments which Vassalaro had occupied.

　　The landlord explained that most of the furniture was his, butthat there were certain articles which were the property of thedeceased man. He added, somewhat unnecessarily, that the latetenant owed him six months' rent.

　　The articles which had been the property of Vassalaro included atin trunk, a small writing bureau, a secretaire bookcase and a fewclothes. The secretaire was locked, as was the writing bureau.

　　The tin box, which had little or nothing of interest, wasunfastened.

　　The other locks needed very little attention. Without anydifficulty Mansus opened both. The leaf of the bureau, when letdown, formed the desk, and piled up inside was a whole mass ofletters opened and unopened, accounts, note-books and all theparaphernalia which an untidy man collects.

　　Letter by letter, T. X. went through the accumulation withoutfinding anything to help him. Then his eye was attracted by asmall tin case thrust into one of the oblong pigeon holes at theback of the desk. This he pulled out and opened and found a smallwad of paper wrapped in tin foil.

　　"Hello, hello!" said T. X.,and he was pardonably exhilarated.