"Look on the mantel-piece in my sitting-room for a blank envelope,
open, which contains a five-pound note--No. 11267. I also left my ring
in the cigar tray. Wire reply if note and ring are safe.--ARTHUR
NOEL."

The address to reply to was added.

Poor Lawson spent an agonized ten minutes in searching over the
contents of the mantel-piece. In the end he had to fill in the reply
telegram with the news that nowhere could the five-pound note nor the
ring be found.

A little over two hours passed, and again the worthy servant was
startled by a telegraphic dispatch. This was what it contained:--

"Have reasons to believe that the painter Dove is the thief. Go
instantly to the nearest police-station, give them the number of the
note, and go with one of their staff to Dove's house. His address is,
10, Eden Street, Junction Road, Holloway. The note and ring will
probably be found on his person. Get him apprehended if possible. Take
all necessary cabs.--ARTHUR NOEL."

Thus it came to pass that when that evening Dove sat down tranquilly
to a luxurious supper of lobster salad, chops, and bottled stout, he
was unpleasantly interrupted. When two policemen, accompanied by
Lawson, came into his room, he was guilty of using very violent
language, and altogether conducted himself in a most excited manner;
but, notwithstanding his resistance, and Mrs. Dove's hysterics, and
some terribly distressing chuckles, really sounding more like laughter
than tears, which were heard to issue from the lips of that naughty