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Educated Evans got out of bed and slipped on his dressing- gown, which was also his overcoat, an extra blanket, and on occasions a mackintosh. The hour was seven; outside in the dark mews rain was falling steadily.

It was not an hour at which one might expect the most enthusiastic of clients would call upon the World's Champion. In truth, of late, Evans had found his erstwhile clientele somewhat sceptical of his information even when he sought them out.

He lit the oil lamp and opened the door. There was nobody in sight, and then he heard a sound, and, stooping, lifted the long basket that stood on the landing and carried it into the room.

"Good Gawd!" said Evans.

He heard the wail before he opened the lid and saw the solemn eyes staring up from the interior of the basket.

"Good Gawd!" said Evans again.

He picked up the baby and laid it on the bed, and with a flutter of eyelids the tiny mortal went instantly into a sound sleep.

Evans examined the basket. It bore the label of a local fishmonger and smelt strongly of the sea. The World's Champion ran his fingers through his hair and strove to recover his composure. And then he heard a heavy step upon the stairs, and the door opened to reveal a figure in a shiny mackintosh.

"Hullo, Mr. Challoner—come in."

The straw between The Miller's teeth was soddened with rain, and as he stood in the room near the door, tiny rivulets of water dripped hurriedly to the floor.

Without any preliminary

"Do you know Mrs. Erman—a pasty-faced girl with goggly eyes?"

I don't—" began Evans.

"You got her a job at Lammer's," said The Miller sharply. "I knew she was staying here with her aunt, and I came down to make sure the other night, but I never dreamt she'd plant herself on you. She was hanging round here for something, but I couldn't guess what it was."

Evans was pale, his mouth wide open.

"Wha's—wha's happened?" he croaked, and The Miller laughed unpleasantly.

"To-night they cleared Lammer's safe and made a get-away. We'll be able to pick them up because she's got a baby."

Educated Evans opened his mouth again and tried to speak, blinked impotently and tried again.

"Miss Develle....

"Mrs. Erman," corrected The Miller, and his eyes fell upon the little slumberer.

"Yours?" he asked, and Educated Evans shook his head, speechless.

The Miller walked across the room and examined the child. He saw what Evans in his agitation had failed to see. A card tied to the baby's wrist by a piece of pink ribbon, and the card was inscribed:

A little sooveneer."

Mrs. Erman was good at figures, but her spelling left much to be desired.