Teddy, it appeared--one may observe the use of the informant in the detective sergeant's report--had been on the water-wagon for some time. But a week ago he had broken out. For two or three days he had drunk steadily, and finished up by breaking the jaw of one of his boon companions who had refused to lend him money. Then he had laid up to recover as was his habit. On Tuesday he had gone on a drinking bout again, and that seemed likely to continue indefinitely. During his absence the sergeant had talked with his wife, who would give nothing away. But he had rescued from the grate of a room during the conversation a half-burnt scrap of paper which he enclosed. "All ready. Cut out b---- put you in the mud. Meet----" Labar considered matters thoughtfully. This was too good to be true. If he was able to add two and two together correctly it might lead anywhere. It looked reasonably certain that Gold Dust Teddy was one of Larry's tools. All the same, to rope in a drunken burglar did not of necessity mean that he would be any nearer to getting Larry Hughes. It was on record that Larry had contrived to slip from the meshes on similar occasions. He sent for one of his men. "Go out and see Simmons. Tell him that you're to help him bring in Gold Dust Teddy. If Teddy wants to know why he's pinched you haven't got any idea. Follow that. Just bring him in. Take a pair of cuffs with you. He may be rough to handle." The theory that a Scotland Yard man carries handcuffs habitually in his pocket dies hard. They are heavy things, and he takes them only when he needs them, which is seldom. A ragged shrill whistle which remotely resembled a tune heralded the entrance of Malone. "You here, guv'nor. There's a lady asking to see you downstairs. Passed her on the way up." "Can't see anyone this morning, Bill. It's my busy day. Somebody whose cook has got away with the fish knives I expect. You go and have a word with her." "I think you'll see this one," said Malone. "She's Miss Penelope Noelson." The girl was pale, but her voice was firm as she returned Labar's formal greeting. "I was on my way to see you," he said. "I expected you earlier," she returned a trifle wearily. "As you didn't come I thought it well----" "I hope you let me have the full story," he interrupted. "You have had time to sleep over it, and perhaps you will see the wisdom of being absolutely frank. But understand you are not compelled to say anything. I shall conceivably have to use it against you." "It has been a nightmare since yesterday," she confessed, speaking slowly, as with effort. "If you intend to arrest me you will have to. I know--what you think--I don't blame you." She choked back something very like a sob. "I can only tell you I am almost innocent. I can see how black things must look to you; but that is the truth. There are others--I cannot tell you all."