"Not yet; I haven't told him. But he's somewhere about; I'll tell him
now."

"No, don't. I don't think we'll have that done, after all. I expect he'll
want to go out soon--at any rate, some time during the day. Let him go
whenever he likes. I'll sit upstairs a bit in the club-room."

"Very well. But how do you know Steggles will be going out?"

"Well, he's pretty restless after his lost _protégé_, isn't he? I don't
suppose he'll be able to remain idle long."

"And about Crockett. Do you give him up?"

"Oh, no! Don't you be impatient. I can't say I'm quite confident yet of
laying hold of him--the time is so short, you see--but I think I shall at
least have news for you by the evening."

Hewitt sat in the club-room until the afternoon, taking his lunch there.
At length he saw, through the front window, Raggy Steggles walking down
the road. In an instant Hewitt was down-stairs and at the door. The road
bent eighty yards away, and as soon as Steggles passed the bend the
detective hurried after him.

All the way to Padfield town and more than half through it Hewitt dogged
the trainer. In the end Steggles stopped at a corner and gave a note to a
small boy who was playing near. The boy ran with the note to a bright,
well-kept house at the opposite corner. Martin Hewitt was interested to
observe the legend, "H. Danby, Contractor," on a board over a gate in the