When a thief arrived at this place with any stolen property, he pulled a wire the handle of which hung against the wall in the court: a bell rang within—the outer door opened by unseen means, and the thief closed it behind him on entering the little room. He then tapped at the inner or second door which we have noticed, and which had a hatch in it that immediately drew up: no one appeared—but the thief threw in his bundle or parcel. The hatch then closed. In a few moments—or according to the time required for the inspection of the goods—the hatch was raised again, but merely high enough to admit the passage of a small piece of paper, whereon was marked the highest price that would be given for the articles offered for sale. If the paper were immediately returned by the thief, the money was thrust forth; the door in the court opened again by invisible means, the thief departed, and the door was closed behind him: if, however, he did not return the paper, it was considered that he would not accept the amount proffered, and the bundle was restored to him through the hatch. "Thus, you perceive," said Old Death, whom Rainford compelled to reveal the mysterious use of the hatch in the inner door, "no one is seen by those who come here to dispose of their property." "And who manages this business for you?" demanded the highwayman; "for it is clear that you cannot be here—there—and every where at one and the same time." "I have a faithful and trustworthy man who has been in my service for many—many years," answered Old Death. "But the people who have dealings at this place must know that it is your establishment?" said Rainford. "Quite the contrary!" exclaimed Bones, with a grim smile. "This fencing-crib is called _Tidmarsh's_—and none of the flash men in London know that I have the least connexion with it. It takes its name from my managing man. When I have business to do that I must transact in person, I meet my friends at public-houses and patter-cribs—and my very intimate ones, such as you, at Bunce's. But come up stairs." Old Death led the way to an indifferently furnished room, where a man as well stricken in years and as repulsively ugly as himself, though apparently not near so tall, was in bed. "It's only me, Tidmarsh," said Old Death. "Only you!" growled the man, sitting up in bed, and staring suspiciously at Rainford. "Me and a friend—a very particular friend, Tiddy," added Bones. "Indeed, it's Mr. Rainford." "Oh! that's different!" said Tidmarsh, in a more conciliatory tone. "Your fame, sir, has reached me even in this crib. Take some rum, sir." And he pointed to a bottle and glasses standing on a table. "Well—I don't mind if I do—just to keep out the damp, and drink your health, Mr. Tidmarsh," cried Rainford, in his usual merry, off-hand strain; and, suiting the action to his words, he took a small dram. Old Death followed his example; and Mr. Tidmarsh suffered himself to be prevailed upon to imbibe a like quantum.