The "Searchlight" was unique. There were other organs which made a speciality of exposing quackery, but these could seldom resist the temptation of endeavouring--usually successfully--to blackmail the quack as an alternative to exposing him. But the "Searchlight" was above suspicion. It had never attempted to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, for the excellent reason that such a proceeding would have bored its proprietor. Dill harried the unjust, not from any special feeling of tenderness towards the just, but in order to gratify his own rather impish sense of humour. He had no special regard for the feelings or pocket of the British Public, but he loved to clap an impostor in the pillory and watch him squirm. This was the seventh visit of the zealous Turner to the headquarters of the Kind Young Hearts. He had missed James Nimmo on the previous Thursday, for that astute emissary always made his call for the letters about eight o'clock in the morning: so Turner was still without evidence as to whether the flat was in use at all. His gratification, then, on beholding the door standing open was extreme. He peeped inside. Standing by the window of the bare and dusty room he beheld a middle-aged, military-looking gentleman perusing letters. The enemy was delivered into his hands. He tapped at the door and walked in. Uncle Joseph looked up from the last letter, and gave Mr. Turner a polite good-morning. The sleuth-hound replied in suitable terms, and embarked upon a tactful yet deadly cross-examination, long laid up in readiness for such an opportunity as this. But he was faced with a difficulty at the outset. Anxious not to alarm his quarry, he had decided to open the attack with a few pleasant observations upon the convenient situation of the office and the tasteful character of its furniture and appointments. So, hastily reining back his opening sentence, which began: "This is a snug little establishment of yours, sir. I expect you get through a lot of solid business here,"--which sprang automatically to his lips,--Mr. Turner remarked:-- "I have called in reference to a circular which you sent me a few days ago." "Did I?" replied Uncle Joseph blandly. "Yes. It was an appeal for funds for the International Brotherhood of Kind Young Hearts." "This is most interesting," said Uncle Joseph, putting his letters back into their envelopes. "But tell me, how do you know that it was I who sent you a circular; and why have you tracked me to an empty flat in Soho to talk to me about it?" "Aren't these the offices of the Brotherhood of Kind Young Hearts?" asked Turner, a little abashed. Uncle Joseph smiled indulgently, and looked round him. "They don't _look_ very like the offices of a charitable organization," he said--"do they? Charity begins in a _home_, you know. That being the case, I rather fancy your Kind-Hearted friends would at least have furnished themselves with something to sit down on."