‘I worked on a system. I waited till my man was absolutely wrapped up in the game, meanwhile locating his handkerchief carefully. Then, at the moment when he was following the ball with the eye, I put in some swift finger-work. It was not always successful. The Doctor, for instance, bowled me out twice—he’s got eyes in the back of his head. But I got six handkerchiefs that way, and a seventh from a rain-coat that had been left in my hall. I’ve good reason to know that I’m not a winner, but it’s not bad—eh?’ ‘A good sporting game,’ said the chairman. ‘These thefts from the person ought really to count more than easy overcoat-shots. They want more dexterity. The others only require brain-work. Still, I have to administer the law as Leonard lays it down. So far Hesseltine wins.’ ‘But he won’t win,’ said the Major mysteriously. ‘Oh, yes, I’ve got good reason to know it.’ And he proceeded to compound for himself a due measure of whisky and seltzer-water. Dr Alden, who was next called upon, could claim a score of only two. But so far as it went, it was brilliant and audacious work. One of the handkerchiefs had been taken from Sir Charles Bunford and one from Mr Matthews, and in both cases the theft had been committed in Piccadilly in broad daylight and under the eyes of the police. ‘It’s clear where your real talent lies,’ said Jimmy. ‘You’re wasted in Harley Street. However, time’s getting on, and a few bad men would like a rubber of bridge before we part. Will any member who claims to have beaten Hesseltine’s score kindly hold up a hand?’ The Rev. Septimus Cunliffe and Mr Wildersley, A.R.A., both held up hands. ‘What?’ said the chairman. ‘Our padre in the sneak-thief business? Has he no respect for his cloth? Leonard has a lot to answer for. However, we will hear you, Mr Cunliffe.’ [Illustration: Three gentlemen in a smoking-room, smoking and drinking. One man is wearing a clerical vest and collar; the other two are dressed in tuxedo dinner suits and have monocles. One man is speaking, addressing the room at large. He leans casually against a table upon which can be seen a cigar box, a whisky bottle, and drinking glasses. Caption: ‘“Has he no respect for his cloth?”’]