hints on Deportment, became a familiar spectacle in Clerkenwell.

* * * * *

Mr. Buffin played his part well. In fact, too well. It was on the
seventh day that, sidling along in the direction of his favourite place
of refreshment, he found himself tapped on the shoulder. At the same
moment an arm, linking itself in his, brought him gently to a halt.
Beside him were standing two of the most eminent of the great Frith
Street Gang, Otto the Sausage and Rabbit Butler. It was the finger of
the Rabbit that had tapped his shoulder. The arm tucked in his was the
arm of Otto the Sausage.

"Hi, Spider," said Mr. Butler, "Sid wants to see you a minute."

The Spider's legs felt boneless. There was nothing in the words to
alarm a man, but his practised ear had seemed to detect a certain
unpleasant dryness in the speaker's tone. Sid Marks, the all-powerful
leader of the Frith Street Gang, was a youth whose company the Spider
had always avoided with some care.

The great Sid, seated in state at a neighbouring hostelry, fixed his
visitor with a cold and questioning eye. Mr. Buffin looked nervous and
interrogative. Mr. Marks spoke.

"Your pal Keating pinched Porky Binns this mornin'," said Sid.

The Spider's heart turned to water.

"You and that slop," observed Sid dreamily, "have been bloomin' thick