He called a hansom and drove to his rooms.

The hall-porter had left his post in the front hall, and there was
no one to inform Laverick that a visitor was awaiting him. When he
entered his sitting-room, however, he gave a little start of surprise.
Mr. James Shepherd was reclining in his easy-chair with his hands
upon his knees - Mr. James Shepherd with his face more pasty even
than usual, his eyes a trifle greener, his whole demeanor one of
unconcealed and unaffected terror.

"Hullo!" Laverick exclaimed. "What the dickens - what do you want
here, Shepherd?"

"Upon my word, sir, I'm not sure that I know," the man replied,
"but I'm scared. I've brought you back the certificates of them
shares. I want you to keep them for me. I'm terrified lest they
come and search my room. I am, I tell you fair. I'm terrified to
order a pint of beer for myself. They're watching me all the time."

"Who are?" Laverick demanded.

"Lord knows who;" Shepherd answered, "but there's two of them at it.
I told you about them as asked questions, and I thought there we'd
done and finished with it. Not a bit of it ! There was another one
there this afternoon, said he was a journalist, making sketches of
the passage and asking me no end of questions. He wasn't no
journalist, I'll swear to that. I asked him about his paper.
'Half-a-dozen,' he declared. 'They're all glad to have what I send
them.' Journalist! Lord knows who the other chap was and what he
was asking questions for, but this one was a 'tec, straight. Joe