"5th Middlesex Fusiliers?" "That's right," said Bill. He was relieved at being able to start by telling the truth. It laid a firm foundation for the lies he would have to construct later on. "Regimental Number 2312?" "Correct," said Bill. "What might you want o' me?" "I just want to ask you a question or two." The scribe at the table gave his pencil another lick, increasing the stain on his lip. "What about?" The spokesman gave a doubtful glance at Mrs. Grant, who was still quivering in the background. "If the lady wouldn't mind ..." he began politely. "'Op it, mother!" said Bill. "You go an' get on with yer washin'." "Oh, indeed! I'm not to know what goes on in me own 'ouse, ain't I? Very well then, you can ask yer questions in the street, or the back yard." "P'raps it don't matter," said the sergeant uneasily. "I only want to ask a question or two about this book." "Right-o," said Bill. "Carry on!" Should he deny all knowledge of the book? If he did, could he outface the policemen and convince them? How much did the police know, and how had they managed to connect him with the book at all? He could not answer any of these questions, and his only course was to wait till his adversary should give him a lead. He did not have to wait long. "This book," said the sergeant, "was sent out to you at the front by Miss So-fire Browne at a recent date." "It was," admitted Bill. So that was how they had traced him, was it--by the name and address of Miss Browne's brother written on the fly-leaf? And seeing that they knew so much, it was well for him that he had not after all denied his connection with the book. "Can you tell me under what circumstances you relinquished possession of the volume in question?" This was the point where truth must begin to be tempered. Bill set his intuitive faculty busily to work. "Is that Latin for when did I lose it?" he asked, more with the idea of gaining time than of procuring information or even of insulting the policeman. "None o' that," said the Arm of the Law majestically. "Answer the question. When did you see the book last?" The owner of the notebook, who had so far merely been ticking off the various items of Bill's description as the correctness of each was established, realized that the heavy part of his task was now just about to begin. He devoted himself to suction of his pencil-point with such assiduity that he began to look as though he had regaled himself heavily with black cherries.