The Club of Queer Trades
peared at the door spoke almost as soon as he appeared there.
"I think one of you gentlemen," he said, curtly, but respectfully, "was present at the affair in Copper Street last night, and drew my attention very strongly to a particular man."
Rupert half rose from his chair, with eyes like diamonds, but the constable went on calmly, referring to a paper.
"A young man with gray hair. Had light gray clothes, very good, but torn in the struggle. Gave his name as Drummond Keith."
"This is amusing," said Basil, laughing. "I was in the very act of clearing that poor officer's character of rather fanciful aspersions. What about him?"
"Well, sir," said the constable, "I took all the men's addresses and had them watched. It wasn't serious enough to do more than that. All the other addresses are all right. But this man Keith gave a false address. The place doesn't exist"
The breakfast-table was nearly flung over
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