suddenly to smile and to clap hand to thigh.

"A toasting fork!" said he, "a toasting fork is an instrument
possessing three or more sharp points! Ha! Mrs. Trapes is a woman of
singularly apposite ideas." And he smiled a little grimly as he went on
down the stairs.




CHAPTER IX

WHICH RECOUNTS THE END OF AN EPISODE


Midway down he beheld two burly policemen who mounted, one behind the
other, their grey helmets, blue coats, and silver buttons seeming to
fill the narrow stairway.

"Anything wrong?" he enquired, as they drew level.

"Not wid you dis time, bo!" answered one, blandly contemptuous, and
strode on up the stair, twirling his club in practised hand, his fellow
officer at his heels.

Thus rebuked, Mr. Ravenslee looked after them with quick-drawn brows
until, remembering his broken hat brim and shabby clothes, he smiled and
went upon his way. Reaching the dingy lower hall he beheld the solitary
gas-jet flare whose feeble light showed five lounging forms, rough
fellows who talked together in hoarse murmurs and with heads close