Rondalina went along to the little post-office at the end of the street, and turned in. Shortly afterwards, Dowker followed, and, going to the counter, took a telegraph form as if to send a telegram. The girl was attending to someone else, and Rondalina, with the telegram opened out before her, was waiting her turn. Dowker dexterously leaned across her to get a pen, and glanced rapidly at the telegram, which he read in a moment: "PENFOLD, "c/o Balscombe, Park Lane, "Meet me Marble Arch three o'clock, "MYLES." Dowker sent a fictitious telegram, and then strolled leisurely out. "Hum!" he said, thoughtfully. "That's the girl he wants to marry. I wonder what are his reasons for seeing her to-day. I'd like to overhear their conversation. Can't go myself, as he knows me, so Flip will be the very person." And Dowker departed to find Flip. CHAPTER VIII. A JUVENILE DETECTIVE. Flip was a small dried-up looking boy, born and brought up in a London slum. He had no parents--at least, none that he could remember, and had he been asked how he came into existence, he would probably have answered Topsy-like that he "growed." His mother and father had both deserted him at an early age, giving him nothing to remember them by, not even a name, so he was thrown on the world a squalling brat. Nevertheless, he managed to get along somehow to the age of fifteen, at which period of his life Dowker chanced on him, and his prospects began to improve. Dowker, underneath his drab exterior, concealed a kind heart, and, having met Flip one night in the rain, had taken compassion on the miserable morsel of humanity, and given him a cup of coffee to warm him and a roll of bread to satisfy his hunger. Flip was so touched at this disinterested kindness that he attached himself with dog-like fidelity to the detective, and tried to serve him to the best of his small ability. Having had to fight his way in the world, Flip had developed a wonderful sharpness of intellect at a very early age, and Dowker turned this hunger-educated instinct to good account, for he often set the little urchin to follow cabs, run messages, and do other small matters which he required. Flip performed all these duties so well and promptly that Dowker began to take an interest in him, and set to work to cultivate this stunted flower which had sprung up amid the evil weeds of the slums. He had a meeting place appointed with Flip in Drury Lane, and, whenever he wanted him, went there to seek him out. Flip listened to his patron's instructions carefully, and, having a wonderfully tenacious memory of an uncivilized kind, he never forgot what he was told. In return for services rendered, Dowker gave him a shilling a week, and on this small sum Flip managed to exist, with occasional help from casual passers-by.