"The _Almanac_ person! Why, Malkiel is surely a myth, Hennessey, a
number of people, a company, a syndicate, or something of that kind."

"So I thought, grannie. But I have made inquiries--through a detective
agency--and I have discovered that he is one person; in fact, a man,
just like you and me."

"Rather an odd man then! Is he in the Red Book?"

"No. He is, I understand, of a very retiring and secretive disposition.
In fact, I have had great difficulty in learning anything about him. But
at length I have discovered that he receives and answers letters at an
address in London."

"Indeed. Where is it?"

"Jellybrand's Library, Eleven Hundred Z, Shaftesbury Avenue. I sent a
boy messenger there to-day."

"Did you receive a reply?"

"No. I think the boy--although Mr. Ferdinand tells me he wore four
medals, I presume for courage--must have become nervous on perceiving
Mr. Malkiel's name on the envelope, have thrown the note down a grating,
and bolted before he reached the place, though he said--on his Bible
oath, I understand from Mr. Ferdinand--he delivered the note. In any
case I got no answer. How are you feeling?"

"Twisted, but prophetic. I foretell that my ankle will be swelled beyond
recognition to-morrow. Help me to bed, Hennessey."