“It’s so plain, sir, that some of the older men in our office have recognized him by it--under another name than the name you give him.” “Does that add to the difficulty of tracing him?” “He has been a long time away from England, sir; and it’s by no means easy to trace him, on that account. I have been to the young woman, named Phoebe in your statement, to find out what she can tell me about him. She’s ready enough, in the intervals of crying, to help us to lay our hands on the man who has deserted her. It’s the old story of a fellow getting at a girl’s secrets and a girl’s money, under pretence of marrying her. At one time, she’s furious with him, and at another she’s ready to cry her eyes out. I got some information from her; it’s not much, but it may help us. The name of the old woman, who has been the go-between in the business, is Mrs. Sowler--known to the police as an inveterate drunkard, and worse. I don’t think there will be much difficulty in tracing Mrs. Sowler. As to Jervy, if the young woman is to be believed, and I think she is, there’s little doubt that he has got the money from the lady mentioned in my instructions here, and that he has bolted with the sum about him. Wait a bit, sir, I haven’t done with my discoveries yet. I asked the young woman, of course, if she had his photograph. He’s a sharp fellow; she had it, but he got it away from her, on pretence of giving her a better one, before he took himself off. Having missed this chance, I asked next if she knew where he lived last. She directed me to the place; and I have had a talk with the landlord. He tells me of a squint-eyed man, who was a good deal about the house, doing Jervy’s dirty work for him. If I am not misled by the description, I think I know the man. I have my own notion of what he’s capable of doing, if he gets the chance--and I propose to begin by finding our way to him, and using him as a means of tracing Jervy. It’s only right to tell you that it may take some time to do this--for which reason I have to propose, in the mean while, trying a shorter way to the end in view. Do you object, sir, to the expense of sending a copy of your description of Jervy to every police-station in London?” “I object to nothing which may help to find him. Do you think the police have got him anywhere?” “You forget, sir, that the police have no orders to take him. What I’m speculating on is the chance that he has got the money about him--say in small banknotes, for convenience of changing them, you know.” “Well?” “Well, sir, the people he lives among--the squint-eyed man, for instance!--don’t stick at trifles. If any of them have found out that Jervy’s purse is worth having--” “You mean they would rob him?” “And murder him too, sir, if he tried to resist.” Amelius started to his feet. “Send round to the police-stations without losing another minute,” he said. “And let me hear what the answer is, the instant you receive it.”