"Oh, no, there's ever so much more. When he was gone I went back to the baker's shop, to see if I could find out anything more about him. I _did_ hear a lot! Oh, Dick, he's a regular bad 'un. He's lived there ever so many years, and there ain't a living soul that's got a good word for him. I saw the man again they called a jackal, and I got his name and where he lives. Here it is. I bought a sheet of paper and a bit of pencil for a ha'penny, and I put all the names and addresses down, for fear I might forget 'em. Here's the man's name that's going to be sold up to-morrow, and here's the baker woman's name and address, and here's the trunk shop, and here's the number of the house in Park Street that he looked so long up at the windows of." "Reginald's lodgings," said Dick, looking at the paper. "What do you think now of my first mate? Anything more, Gracie?" "When I got all I could out of 'em I thought I'd come and try to find you, Dick, and I took a tram and two busses to Catchpole Square, but you weren't there. Then I came here, and you weren't here. Then I went back to Catchpole Square again, and who should I see but Dr. Vinsen going into a house in Shore Street. It's down on the paper." "Dr. Pye's house," explained Dick. "We're getting warm." "He kept there an hour and more, but I never budged, When he came out he didn't look pleased, and he looked worse when he bought some more special editions of the papers, and read what was in 'em." "Wanted the inquest over," interposed Dick, "and a verdict of wilful murder against Reginald. Go on, partner." "It was getting night, and I thought I might have a chance of catching the man Dr. Vinsen was talking to last night, so I went to the place where the inquest was held, and there I saw him. I saw you, too, ma'am, and the young lady, and a good many others, all talking together. I didn't see you, Dick." "I wasn't there." "But where were you, child?" asked Aunt Rob. "I didn't set eyes on you." "I took care you shouldn't. When this man went away--oh, what a black face he had, Dick!--I followed him home. He doesn't live fur off, and he keeps an ironmonger's shop. You'll see the name on the paper, Dick; it's the bottom name." "I see it, Gracie. P. Rawdon, ironmonger, 24, Wellington Street." "There's a lot of things outside the shop window on the pavement, pots, and pans, and pails, under a verandah, and a boy was taking 'em into the shop. I sneaks up to the boy, and says, 'Is that the master?' 'Yes,' the boy says, 'that's the guv'nor.' 'Mr. Rawdon?' I says. 'Yes,' he says, 'Mr. Rawdon.' And with that he goes inside with his arms full, and I walks away, for I didn't know what else I could do, when up comes Dr. Vinsen again, almost at the top of me. Lucky for me he didn't catch sight of me. I cut across the road, and watched him go into the shop. I waited a little while, but it was past seven o'clock, and you said I was to be here before eight. That's all, Dick."