The Club of Queer Trades
"Have a good eye kept on that one," said Rupert, pale to the lips, and pointing to the ragged Keith.
"All right, sir," said the policeman, unemotionally, and went the round of the people present collecting the addresses. When he had completed his task the dusk had fallen and most of the people not immediately connected with the examination had gone away. He still found, however, one eager-faced stranger lingering on the outskirts of the affair. It was Rupert Grant.
"Constable." he said, "I have a very particular reason for asking you a question. Would you mind telling me whether that military fellow who dropped his sword-stick in the row gave you an address or not?"
"Yes, sir," said the policeman, after a reflective pause—"yes, he gave me his address."
"My name is Rupert Grant," said that individual, with some pomp. "I have assisted the police on more than one occasion. I wonder whether you would tell me, as a special favor, what address?"
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