“Hullo, Jimmy!” greeted the unconventional detective. He took up the card and chose his dishes with elaborate care. A half-bottle of Beaujolais completed his order. “The ridiculous thing is that one has got to pay 7s. 6d. for a small bottle of wine that any respectable grocer will sell you for tenpence ha’-penny net.” “You must pay for the magnificence,” said the other, quietly amused. Then, after the briefest pause, “What do you want?” “Not you, Jimmy,” said the amiable Angel, “though my young friend, Boyden, Inspector of Police, and a Past Chief Templar to boot, will be looking for you shortly.” Jimmy carefully chose a toothpick and stripped it of its tissue covering. “Of course,” he said quietly, “I wasn’t in it--the killing, I mean. I was there.” “I know all about that,” said Angel; “saw your foolish cigarettes. I didn’t think you had any hand in the killing. You are a property criminal, not a personal criminal.” “By which I gather you convey the nice distinction as between crimes against property and crimes against the person,” said the other. “Exactly.” A pause. “Well?” said Jimmy. “What I want to see you about is the verse,” said Angel, stirring his soup. Jimmy laughed aloud. “What a clever little devil you are, Angel,” he said admiringly; “and not so little either, in inches or devilishness.” He relapsed into silence, and the wrinkled forehead was eloquent. “Think hard,” taunted Angel. “I’m thinking,” said Jimmy slowly. “I used a pencil, as there was no blotting paper. I only made one copy, just as the old man dictated it, and----” “You used a block,” said Angel obligingly, “and only tore off the top sheet. And you pressed rather heavily on that, so that the next sheet bore a legible impression.” Jimmy looked annoyed. “What an ass I am!” he said, and was again silent. “The verse?” said Angel. “Can you make head or tail of it?” “No”--Jimmy shook his head--“can you?” “Not a blessed thing,” Angel frankly confessed. Through the next three courses neither man spoke. When coffee had been placed on the table, Jimmy broke the silence-- “You need not worry about the verse. I have only stolen a march of a few days. Then Connor will have it; and some girl or other will have it. Massey would have had it too.” He smiled grimly. “What is it all about?” Jimmy looked at his questioner with some suspicion. “Don’t you know?” he demanded. “Haven’t got the slightest notion. That is why I came to see you.” “Curious!” mused Jimmy. “I thought of looking _you_ up for the very same purpose. We shall know in a day or two,” he went on, beckoning the waiter. “The old man said it was all in the will. He just told me the verse before he died. The ruling passion, don’t you know. ‘Learn it by heart, Jimmy,’ he croaked; ‘it’s two millions for you if you guess it’--and that’s how he died. My bill, waiter. Which way do you go?” he asked as they turned into Piccadilly. “To the ‘Plait’ for an hour,” said Angel. “Business?”