Within half an hour Triffitt was occupant of the flat, the cashier of the _Argus_ having duly telephoned that he was a thoroughly dependable and much-respected member of its staff, and Triffitt himself having handed over ten pounds as rent for the coming month, he interviewed the caretaker's wife, went to a neighbouring grocer's shop and ordered a stock of necessaries wherewith to fill his larder, repaired to his own lodgings and brought away all that he wanted in the way of luggage, books, and papers, and by the middle of the afternoon was fairly settled in his new quarters. He spent an hour in putting himself and his belongings straight--and then came the question what next? He was there for a special purpose--that special purpose was to acquaint himself as thoroughly as possible with the doings of Frank Burchill. Burchill was there--he was almost on the point of saying, in the next cell!--there, in the flat across the corridor; figuratively, within touch, if it were not for sundry divisions of brick, mortar, and the like. Burchill's door was precisely opposite his own; there was an advantage in that fact. And in Triffitt's outer door (all these flats, he discovered--that is, if they were all like his own, possessed double doors) there was a convenient letter slit, by manipulating which he could, if he chose, keep a perpetual observation on the other opposite. But Triffitt did not propose to sit with his eye glued to that letter slit all day--it might be useful at times, and for some special purpose, but he had wider views. And the first thing to do was to make an examination, geographical and exhaustive, of his own surroundings: Triffitt had learnt, during his journalistic training, that attention to details is one of the most important things in life.