But though Mr. Parsons, Senior, had been a clever professor of the predatory art, though his triumphs had been numerous and his operations exceedingly brilliant and extensive, he could not be called a success. To pass forty years of one's life in jail, to be perpetually blackmailed by one's accomplices, to obtain only a small proportion of one's legitimate earnings from those rascals the "fences" or dealers in stolen property, and at last after all to die in prison, is not a brilliant prospect. Now Mr. Parsons the son was a philosopher. On his father's death he found himself the possessor of a complete and almost perfect set of what may be termed his father's trade utensils. There was also a little secret hoard of valuable gems. Mr. Parsons put his burglarious implements in a place of safety; he lived abroad upon the proceeds of his little fortune for some years; and when he came back to England his own mother, if she had been alive, would not have known him. Then he settled down at number 13, Matilda Street, and commenced the practice of his profession upon principles of his own: not as a mere mercenary occupation, but as a fine art. Mr. Parsons kept well away from his father's old haunts and from the perfidious acquaintances who had degraded him and been the cause of his ultimate ruin. Mr. Parsons had no low tastes; he disliked drink and bad company; he had but one ambition, and that was to obtain a comfortable competence from the skilful exercise of his profession. He wisely concluded that it is not sufficient to commit a successful burglary, if you are afterwards found out. He was a careful student of the police reports and the trials at the Central Criminal Court, and the more he studied those interesting records, the more he became convinced of the wickedness of human nature, the inefficiency of the police, and the tendency of accomplices to "split." Mr. Parsons, then, being a thoroughly practical man was also a theorist; he made several determinations, which he strictly kept to. In the first place, he came to the conclusion that a suspect is always watched, and that accomplices, however useful, are extremely dangerous. So he determined to carry on his profession upon strictly business principles. Wise man that he was, he appreciated the fable of the hare and the tortoise. It was better, he thought, to earn a safe and comfortable living; and he determined, should he ever be so fortunate as to make a great _coup_, to immediately retire from business. He trusted to his own clear head, his own clever fingers, and himself. So he habitually worked alone. He passed his afternoons in "looking round." His operations were very carefully planned, and generally successfully carried out.