“One afternoon, four years later, I was sitting in the coffee-room of a City restaurant where I was working, reading the account of a clever robbery committed the day before. The thief, described as a well-dressed young man of gentlemanly appearance, wearing a short black beard and moustache, had walked into a branch of the London and Westminster Bank during the dinner-hour, when only the manager and one clerk were there. He had gone straight through to the manager's room at the back of the bank, taken the key from the inside of the door, and before the man could get round his desk had locked him in. The clerk, with a knife to his throat, had then been persuaded to empty all the loose cash in the bank, amounting in gold and notes to nearly five hundred pounds, into a bag which the thief had thoughtfully brought with him. After which, both of them--for the thief seems to have been of a sociable disposition--got into a cab which was waiting outside, and drove away. They drove straight to the City: the clerk, with a knife pricking the back of his neck all the time, finding it, no doubt, a tiresome ride. In the middle of Threadneedle Street, the gentlemanly young man suddenly stopped the cab and got out, leaving the clerk to pay the cabman. “Somehow or other, the story brought back Joseph to my mind. I seemed to see him as that well-dressed gentlemanly young man; and, raising my eyes from the paper, there he stood before me. He had scarcely changed at all since I last saw him, except that he had grown better looking, and seemed more cheerful. He nodded to me as though we had parted the day before, and ordered a chop and a small hock. I spread a fresh serviette for him, and asked him if he cared to see the paper. “'Anything interesting in it, Henry?' says he. “'Rather a daring robbery committed on the Westminster Bank yesterday,' I answers. “'Oh, ah! I did see something about that,' says he. “'The thief was described as a well-dressed young man of gentlemanly appearance, wearing a black beard and moustache,' says I. “He laughs pleasantly. “'That will make it awkward for nice young men with black beards and moustaches,' says he. “'Yes,' I says. 'Fortunately for you and me, we're clean shaved.' “I felt as certain he was the man as though I'd seen him do it. “He gives me a sharp glance, but I was busy with the cruets, and he had to make what he chose out of it. “'Yes,' he replies, 'as you say, it was a daring robbery. But the man seems to have got away all right.' “I could see he was dying to talk to somebody about it. “'He's all right to-day,' says I; 'but the police ain't the fools they're reckoned. I've noticed they generally get there in the end.' “'There's some very intelligent men among them,' says he: 'no question of it. I shouldn't be surprised if they had a clue!' “'No,' I says, 'no more should I; though no doubt he's telling himself there never was such a clever thief.' “'Well, we shall see,' says he.