murmur of town life, the subdued rumble of wheels in the two invisible
streets to the right and left, came through the curve of the sordid lane
to his ears with a precious familiarity and an appealing sweetness. He
was human. But Chief Inspector Heat was also a man, and he could not let
such words pass.

"All this is good to frighten children with," he said. "I'll have you
yet."

It was very well said, without scorn, with an almost austere quietness.

"Doubtless," was the answer; "but there's no time like the present,
believe me. For a man of real convictions this is a fine opportunity of
self-sacrifice. You may not find another so favourable, so humane. There
isn't even a cat near us, and these condemned old houses would make a
good heap of bricks where you stand. You'll never get me at so little
cost to life and property, which you are paid to protect."

"You don't know who you're speaking to," said Chief Inspector Heat
firmly. "If I were to lay my hands on you now I would be no better than
yourself."

"Ah! The game!'

"You may be sure our side will win in the end. It may yet be necessary
to make people believe that some of you ought to be shot at sight like
mad dogs. Then that will be the game. But I'll be damned if I know what
yours is. I don't believe you know yourselves. You'll never get
anything by it."