anything!"

"Be good enough to waken him," persisted the inspector. "I wish to speak
to him."

Mrs. Brian walked slowly from the room and could be heard entering one
further along the passage. An angry snarling, suggesting that of a wild
animal disturbed in its lair, proclaimed the arousing of Taximan Thomas
Brian. A thick voice inquired, brutally, why the sanguinary hell he (Mr.
Brian) had had his bloodstained slumbers disturbed in this gory manner
and who was the vermilion blighter responsible.

Then Mrs. Brian's voice mingled with that of her husband, and both
became subdued. Finally, a slim man, who wore a short beard, or had
omitted to shave for some days, appeared at the door of the living-room.
His face was another history upon the same subject as that which might
be studied from the walls, the floor, and the appointments of the room.
Inspector Dunbar perceived that the shadow of the neighboring hostelry
overlay this home.

"What's up?" inquired the new arrival.

The tone of his voice, thickened by excess, was yet eloquent of the
gentleman. The barriers passed, your pariah gentleman can be the
completest blackguard of them all. He spoke coarsely, and the infectious
Cockney accent showed itself in his vowels; but Dunbar, a trained
observer, summed up his man in a moment and acted accordingly.

"Come in and shut the door!" he directed. "No"--as Mrs. Brian sought to
enter behind her husband--"I wish to speak with you, privately."