errand boys to the nearest police station?"

"No, thank you," replied Daddy Tantaine. "I should prefer your keeping
the matter quiet until I communicate with you once more."

"Yes, yes, I see; a false step just now would put them on their guard."

"Just so. Now, will you let me have the number of the note, if you
still have it? I wish you also to make a note of the date as well as the
number."

"Yes, yes, I see," returned the grocer. "You may require my books as
corroborative evidence; that is often the way. Excuse me; I will be back
directly."

All that Daddy Tantaine had desired was executed with the greatest
rapidity, and he and the grocer parted on the best terms, and the
tradesman watched his visitor's departure, perfectly satisfied that he
had been assisting a police officer who had deemed it fit to assume a
disguise. Daddy Tantaine cared little what he thought, and, gaining the
Place de Petit Pont, stopped and gazed around as if he was waiting for
some one. Twice he walked round it in vain; but in his third circuit he
came to a halt with an exclamation of satisfaction, for he had seen the
person of whom he had been in search, who was a detestable looking
youth of about eighteen years of age, though so thin and stunted that he
hardly appeared to be fifteen.

The lad was leaning against the wall of the Quay St. Michel, openly
asking alms, but keeping a sharp lookout for the police. At the first
glance it was easy to detect in him the hideous outgrowth of the great