there was only one way out. I had to die. If my pursuers knew I
was dead they would go to sleep again.'

'How did you manage it?'

'I told the man that valets me that I was feeling pretty bad, and I
got myself up to look like death. That wasn't difficult, for I'm no
slouch at disguises. Then I got a corpse--you can always get a
body in London if you know where to go for it. I fetched it back in
a trunk on the top of a four-wheeler, and I had to be assisted
upstairs to my room. You see I had to pile up some evidence for
the inquest. I went to bed and got my man to mix me a sleeping-
draught, and then told him to clear out. He wanted to fetch a
doctor, but I swore some and said I couldn't abide leeches. When I
was left alone I started in to fake up that corpse. He was my size,
and I judged had perished from too much alcohol, so I put some
spirits handy about the place. The jaw was the weak point in the
likeness, so I blew it away with a revolver. I daresay there will be
somebody tomorrow to swear to having heard a shot, but there are
no neighbours on my floor, and I guessed I could risk it. So I left
the body in bed dressed up in my pyjamas, with a revolver lying on
the bed-clothes and a considerable mess around. Then I got into a
suit of clothes I had kept waiting for emergencies. I didn't dare to
shave for fear of leaving tracks, and besides, it wasn't any kind of
use my trying to get into the streets. I had had you in my mind all
day, and there seemed nothing to do but to make an appeal to you.
I watched from my window till I saw you come home, and then
slipped down the stair to meet you ... There, Sir, I guess you
know about as much as me of this business.'