"Excuse me--which he _did_. But it was late in the afternoon and he was coming back to the stable with the carriage empty. Also, it was in the thick of the traffic at Ludgate Circus, and Kibblewhite was so afraid the fellow might mix himself up in it and give him the slip that he took a chance shot to prevent it. Nipping up the officer on point, he made himself and his business known, and, in a winking, in nips the constable, hauls Mr. Serpice up sharp, and arrests him for driving a public vehicle without a license." "Well played, Kibblewhite!" approved Cleek. "That, of course, meant that the fellow would be arrested and have to give his address and all the rest of it?" "So Kibblewhite himself thought; but what does the beggar do but turn the tables on him in the most unexpected manner by absolutely refusing to do anything of the kind, and, as he did _not_ have a license, and would not call anybody to pay his fine, the magistrate finished the business by committing him to _jail_ for ten days in default. And here's the thing I was ass enough to forget: His ten days' imprisonment was up this morning; Kibblewhite, in disguise, was to be outside the jail to follow him when he was discharged and see where he went, and he told me to look for him to turn up at the Yard before six this evening with a full report of the result of his operations." "Bravo!" said Cleek, leaning back in his seat, with a sigh of satisfaction. "I've changed my mind about leaving you, Mr. Narkom; we will go on to the Yard together. As, in all probability, after ten days without being able to communicate with his pals or with Waldemar, our friend Serpice will be hot to get to them at once and explain the cause of his long absence, the chances are that Kibblewhite will have something of importance to report at last." He had, as they found out when, in the fulness of time, they arrived at the Yard and were told that he was waiting for them in the superintendent's office, and in his excitement he almost threw it at them, so eager he was to report. "I've turned the trick at last, Superintendent," he cried. "The silly josser played straight into my hands, sir. The minute he was out of jail he made a beeline for Soho, and me after him, and there he 'takes to earth' in a rotten little restaurant in the worst part of the district; and when I nips over and has a look inside, there he was shakin' hands with a lot of Frenchies of his own kind, and them all prancin' about and laughin' like they'd gone off their bloomin' heads. I sees there aren't no back door to the place, and I knows from that that he'd have to come out the same way as he went in, so off I nips over to the other side of the street and lays in wait for him.